The Magic Porthole
by jbduenweg
Summary: When Jade Donnelson finds a special mirror which leads her into Lord Beckett's world, everything comes crashing down on her and her friends. Beckett/OC.
1. New House, New Treasures

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 1 - New House, New Treasures

The summer heat beat against my face as I breathed in the forest-y scent, which was blowing in the wide-open car window into my face, causing my whitesh-blonde hair to fling every which way.

My mom, Suzanne Donnelson, was driving, and listening to some music from a CD she brought along for the long, 125- mile drive northward from our old home. We struggled to survive for years where we used to live, when Mom saved up enough money to buy a house with some property up in Washington State.

I've never been to Washington before, so it was a trip worth looking forward to. I really wanted to see Seattle, and the Space Needle, but was greatly disappointed when our destination in more inland, in the forest. I didn't care, though. I never really cared about anything, as long as it promised some kind of adventure.

"Beautiful, isn't it Jade?" Mom sighed, taking off her sunglasses, and let them hand by their beaded string around her neck.

"Mm-hm," I absentmindedly answered. That long car ride sure made me drowsy enough not to answer her with actual words.

"Oh, come on!" she insisted. "Don't you think this is beautiful? I sure do!"

"Yeah, it's great, Mom," I finally forced out of my mouth, crabby all of the sudden. PMS is beginning to kick in again, and it's beginning to show. Especially on my face in pimples, and around my stomach in bloating.

Mom was quiet as she continued driving, shaking her head at my irritability. The end of the road was marked by a cattle-guard, and a gravel road on the other side. The car bumped across the guard, and continued to bump and vibrate along the badly washboarded road. It made me really want to pee whenever I am vibrating like that.

"Thank God I can trade this car in for a Jeep," Mom commented after a few minutes of bumping along the winding gravel road.

I didn't answer, but hung on until we stopped at a V in the road. One was the gravel washboarded road winding up to the right, and a smooth plain dirt road, a bit grown over by grass and some low-growing weeds, winding down to the left into an aspen forest. Right in front of us was a faded yellow and green Real Estate sign, with an arrow pointing straight to the overgrown dirt road.

We have arrived our destination. Mom glanced at the driving directions sitting next to her, reading them softly to herself; "'When you get to the V in the road, turn left in direction of arrow'..." She straightened up and turned left. The vibrating torture was finally over.

The new road was frighteningly narrow, and it twisted in every direction you could possibly think of. After a few long minutes of that ride, we approached a covered bridge ahead of us. It looked as if it hadn't been crossed in over a century.

"Don't worry," Mom reassured me, after seeing the uneasiness on my face. "Shawn told us it's been reconstructed last year."

Last year! That wasn't good enough! How many people have crossed since then?

But we went over it anyway. I hung on tightly as I listened to the car's engine echo inside the darkness of the bridge, to hear if there were any creaks and cracks happening. I let out a huge breath of relief when the car finally left the bridge, and continued along the road, which went on for another mile or so until we reached what looked like a parking space in a thick aspen grove. Off to the right was a small old tool-shed, and a large old barn with corrals were seen on the right. But no house.

Mom parked the car next to the shed and shut it off. "Well, we're here." She announced.

"Where's the house?" I asked anyway. It _had_ to be here!

"Shawn said to take the hand-gate on the other side of the shed," Mom explained. "There's a footpath which leads you straight to the house."

"Great!" I muttered, getting out of the car, and shutting the door. "First we have to drive a million miles to get here, and now we have to walk another!"

"Jade," Mom said in her 'you'd better not even think about it!' voice. "Stop complaining, and help me get these things out of the trunk."

"Sure," I muttered back. Mom popped the trunk, and I lifted it open. Inside were two sleeping bags, four duffel bags, a laptop bag (with the laptop in it, of course!), and one big cooler with food inside.

I lifted the cooler out with all the strength I could muster, and carefully set it on the ground. Mom pulled out the duffel bags to carry herself, and handed me the sleeping bags.

"We'll both come come back for the cooler," she said. "Put it back in the trunk, just in case there' s wild animals out here that's bigger than you."

_Wild animals bigger than me?! Why does Mom have to joke around and scare me like that!? _I thought as I heaved up the big ol' cooler and dropped it back into the trunk.

"Careful! There's two cartons of eggs in there!" Mom lectured.

Whatever. I picked up the sleeping bags and followed her around the front of the shed, towards a small wooden hand-gate, which looked like it was in need of a major paint job. I lifted the rusted latch, and pushed the gate until it creaked open to reveal a small little footpath ahead.

Mom went first, as I stayed to shut the gate behind us, and quickly broke into a small run to catch up with her. She jogs, walks, bikes and swims all the time, so she's pretty much in better shape than her daughter - who is me, of course.

The walk - or strenuous hike, if you need my point of view - was about five minutes long, until we reached a small clearing big enough for the two-story reddish-brown Victorian home, and the yard and garden, which lay off to the left of the house.

Mom stopped to admire the house in front of her. "Absolutely fabulous house, if you ask me."

Fabulous, I think not. Old, yes. Peeling paint, missing windowpanes, shabby roof was all I could see in this old junker. Why in the world would she buy this place? Was it because it was cheap? Probably so, knowing my Mom.

Without another word, Mom continued towards the house, as I remained where I was, looking this place over.

"Jade, come on!" Mom called over her shoulder, still heading towards the house. Hesitantly, and trying my best to ignore any bad feelings I had about this dwelling, I finally followed after Mom.

Once inside, I could smell the musty interior before my eyes adjusted to see it. Old-fashioned wallpaper was everywhere. A steep stairway stood right before me, which lead up an unknown world...

"Leave those sleeping bags there, and we'll go back and get the cooler," Mom said. "Come on."

I pulled my eyes away from the dark stairs, and turned and followed mom back outside.

--

The cooler was brought back, and set in the kitchen, which lacked any appliances whatsoever.

"Shawn said he'll have a brand-new fridge, stove and microwave brought here tomorrow," Mom answered me without my asking. "We'll just eat what we can tonight. Does tuna sandwiches sound good to you?"

"Yeah, they sound great," I mumbled back, just looking around with boredom in my body language. Mom noticed that too, obviously.

"Why don't you go upstairs and pick yourself out a bedroom?" she prompted me. I guess that sounded like an ok idea.

"Sure," I quietly answered, ignoring her odd look she was giving me as I walked by her, and headed for the stairs. I couldn't blame her for giving me an odd look, for I am usually a very talkative and outspoken person all the time. Today was not my day, I suppose.

I tromped up the stairs, which echoed loudly throughout the house, when I slowed down when I heard a really scary-sounding breeze coming from a room up there. Slowly, I crept up each step, until I reached the top.

Off to the left were two doors. Bedrooms, I'm sure. There was another door directly behind me, on the other side of the stairs, too. That could be the bathroom.

To my right was a single door, which was plain and slightly crooked, and secured shut with only a latch through a hole. The spooky wind sound was coming from in there.

Heart pounding, and suddenly overwhelmed with fear, I cautiously approached the door. I listened for a moment for any other sound, and then I lifted the hook out of the hole, and pushed the door open.

On the other side of the door, there was a long, bare, attic-like room, with a single window on the other end. Right next to the window, in the corner, was a self-standing mirror. It was a beautiful mirror, too; with a thick carved mahogany frame surrounding the glass.

The sound was coming from the window, by the way, since it had a pane missing.

I walked across the room, and right up to the mirror. It was about two inches taller than me, and I saw my whole reflection in the flawless glass. It was bright and clear like nothing I've ever seen before. I studied the elaborate carvings on the frame, until my eyes rested on the raised crest on the top of the frame. Carved within that crest was a criss-cross symbol, with the letters 'E, I, Co.' in between the criss-crosses.

_Now, what does that mean? _I wondered. Those letters and that symbol sure meant something, but I couldn't place it. Maybe once we have a phone line and Internet access, I could Google the 'E. I. Company', and find out. It would be great once our storage van arrived tomorrow. It contains all our furniture, and my desktop computer and computer desk, too.

I continued to study the frame over again, until I spotted on the right side of the frame, a metal keyhole. It was an old-fashioned keyhole, which was as long as my thumb. Sheesh, that could be one heck of a huge key to fit into that hole.

Where _was_ the key to this? Stepping forward, and peering at the edge of the mirror, I could easily tell that this mirror behaved like a door, by being able to open in half. Was it made like that, so one could replace broken glass, if they had to? Or was it for hiding secret 'E. I. Company' documents inside of it?

Since it was _locked_, my best guess was the latter. No mirror would be locked, if they didn't mean to hide something valuable and/or important within it. Or maybe it was a door that leads to something...no - that's impossible!

I took my pocketknife out of my pocket, flipped the blade out, and tried to pick the lock.

"Jade!" Mom's voice echoed from downstairs. "Would you please get our sleeping bags, and come eat dinner?"

Sighing heavily with disappointment, I put my knife away, and walked out of the room, latching the door behind me.


	2. Research and Surprise!

**Hurray! Hurray! I've updated! -does happy dance- hope y'all enjoy! Short, I know, but I'm working on it. And if the Ebay stuff isn't accurate, don't mind it. I just made it all up.**

**_DISCLAIMER: _Have I not been writing disclaimers all this time? Uh-oh! Okay, I do NOT own Pirates of the Caribbean, Lord Cutler Beckett, World Book Encyclopedia 1972, or any Internet websites that I have not created. Thank you.**

Now... - drums roll-...

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 2 - Research and Surprise!

Two weeks later...I sat in front of my computer at 10:55 at night, Googling 'EICo.' I typed in EICo in all caps in the search bar, and hit the 'Enter' key, and waited approximately 5 seconds until Google displayed the search results.

Unfortunately, nothing matched what I was looking for. I erased 'EICo.' and typed in 'E. I. Company'. It _is _'Company', right? Or Corporation? I'll try the former, first. Pressing 'Enter', I waited patiently again.

The results were hilarious! _E. I. Lingerie Company_? I laughed aloud. That's absurd! I clicked 'Next', and scanned the page. Nothing matched to what I wanted. Nothing seemed compatible with the mirror's symbol. After viewing the next 46 or so pages, I closed the Internet browser and groaned in defeat. I leaned down on my arms on the desk, and thought my brains out. (No, not literally!)

Just then, an idea popped into my head. The World Book encyclopedias! They were printed in 1972, so they were old enough to go straight to what I thought was correct. So, I jumped to my feet, and walked over to the bookshelves, and found the 'E' book. Grabbing it down, I flipped through the pages. Something caught my eye towards the beginning of the book, and I quickly flipped the pages back until I found it. _East India Trading Company. _Right next to the headline, was the symbol on the mirror! I've found it!

I settled down upon my bed, still intently reading the article about the 'East India Trading Company'. It was established around 1600, and was discontinued around 1850. Other than that, the rest of the article wasn't all that interesting. No mentioning of any door-like mirror or its missing key, either.

I was back on the Internet again, and went to Ebay to search for the East India Trading Company key for the mirror. I typed in 'East India Trading Company' in the search bar, and pressed 'Enter'. After a moment of waiting..._'1-1 pages of 1 items matching your search found'_. What incredible luck! The picture showed a wooden box the size of a shoe box, with a large key with a twisted chain looped through it laying next to it.

Awesomeness!

But my heart dropped to the floor when I saw how much they were asking for it.

$8,000.00!

That was the down payment my Mom and I had to come up with to get this house we're living in! Damn!

But I opened the ad anyways, and read the contents.

_Rare Old Key._

_I inherited this key 6 year ago, and I wish to be rid of it. I have nothing of which it unlocks, so I deem it useless. Otherwise, it would make a very interesting collector's item, or would be able to unlock a large trunk or door._

_This was made around 1740, and I've heard myths that this key unlocks a mirror which matches the symbol on the wooden box, but neither were united.. Does anyone know what the letters and symbol mean? If so, do reply, and send the matching item to me! I will pay you the price I am asking for the key._

_You Pay Postage._

_Located in: London, U.K._

I blinked. I blinked again. If I send this person my mirror clear to England, I get $8,000.00! My Mom would kiss my butt for eternity! I smirked to myself for thinking that. Then again...what sort of myth is attached to this mirror and key? If I spend my hard-earned savings (I've $10,000.00 for College - _if_ I even go!) on a simple 300 year old key and box, then maybe I could be even richer from what I could find inside that mirror. I threw clenched fists excitedly into the air.

Yes! I'll do it!

I calmed myself down, as my heart began to pound with exhilaration, I moved the mouse over to 'Place Bid', and, a second passed...any second thoughts? Am I being ripped off? This this for real? Have I really unveiled a 3 century old mystery after only 2 weeks of waiting for the Internet to arrive? Am I going to be famous? Am I in for a real adventure?

Yes. I clicked on 'Place Bid', and entered my information on the next page, and then I clicked on 'Submit'.

_Bid Placed Successfully. Thank you. _

I let all my built-up breath out, and leaned back in my chair, and looked around my room. Mom told me that the room I wanted to stay in was a storage room, and made me move my stuff and the mirror into the room next to hers.

It was a lovely room too, with a huge closet on one whole wall, and two tall windows across from where I've put my bed. Between the windows, is were I placed the mirror, so I could see myself on my bed. What for, I have no idea. I just think it's cool.

Oh boy... I hope this works! It'd _better_ work!

And it's 12:15 in the morning! I've got to get some sleep for my job interview at the grocery store tomorrow morning! Gah!!


	3. New Job and A Cute Guy

**Change I made: Jade doesn't work at Fred Meyer. She works at a little supermarket I made up.**

**Don't worry! Beckett will make his appearance soon!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 3 - New Job and A Cute Guy

I took a deep, relaxed breath of relief as I drove back home from my job interview at Billy Ray's Super-Mart. It was about the size of all small-town 'supermarkets', but not large and fancy like Safeway, or Fred Meyer's. It was groceries only, and a little deli in the back.

I got the position as a cashier, along with two other girls and a guy. The girls, Linda and Stacey, were cousins, and were very nice to me. I could tell the difference of 'real' nice, and 'phony' nice. Linda and Stacey were the 'real' nice type. Linda was 21, and was engaged to a Real Estate broker. Lucky her, she's gonna live well with all that money from her guy! She's about as tall as I am, with green eyes and stylishly-cut chestnut hair, with a reserved and more mature nature.

Her cousin, Stacey, age 19 like me, is a shorter, slightly plumper blonde. Her eyes are aquamarine blue, and her skin is almost completely white, with little light brown freckles all over. She's so talkative and giggles so much, it drives me crazy. She's _too_ 'real' nice!

The guy, Mike, age 18, is about 6' 5" tall, really 'big' (as in 'fat', but I don't want to describe him as fat, because that's too mean to say.) He has shaved black hair, and brown eyes under a thick pair of glasses. When he talks, his voice reminds me of Damian's from the movie _Mean Girls_.

Right now, I'm driving home, wondering how long it would take the key to arrive here from England.

---

Three weeks later, I have to admit, I love my job, and my co-workers. Stacey never shuts up, and she has a squeaky voice, and talks like a Valley Girl - every other word is 'like'. Linda and I roll our eyes when she starts to talk about the movies she loves; _Never Been Kissed_, _Mean Girls_, _Legally Blonde 1 & 2_ - once she tried to start a rumor that a 3rd _Legally Blonde _was being made! So not true!

Mike just ignores us, and keeps going about his work. Sometimes, his buddies come in and converse with him while he works on scanning their hot dogs and bags of tortilla chips. That's what I call a really bad diet.

A little while later, when we were off work, we close the store at 9:00 at night, and head across the street to Dairy Queen to eat Blizzards. I always get the Oreo one, while Stacey orders her M&M Blizzard and Linda her Cookies n' Cream.

"So what's this key you're all worried about?" Linda piped up when we sat down.

"I ordered it online, and it's being sent from England," I answered before popping a spoonful of Oreo Blizzard into my mouth.

"How long ago did you order it?" Linda asked.

"Three weeks ago, I think," I answered, wondering why she was so suspicious.

"It'll be here by now," she said, and ate a spoonful of her Blizzard.

"What kind of key is it?" Stacey smiled. Ew, she as a blue M&M on her chin.

"Are you saving that for later, Stace?" Linda scoffed, nodding to her chin decoration.

Stacey reached up and took it off. "Ew! Like, gross! Like, I have a blue effing stain on my face like a four-year-old!" she whined as she pulled out her compact mirror she _always_ has on her, and frowned as she rubbed the stain off her chin with her napkin.

Linda groaned and shook her head. "You are _so_ embarrassing!"

"Like, whatever, Linda!" Stacey snapped back, still trying to scrub the blue mark off.

As I listened to them argue, something caught my eye on the other side of the window I was sitting next to. Holy cow! Hot guy walking by, heading towards the front of Dairy Queen! I trained my eyes on this guy as he walked right by me, and out of sight for a moment. I untwisted my neck to look over to the entrance, just in time to see the door swing open, and the guy come walking back into view again.

He was totally gorgeous, with wavy brown hair that nearly touched his shoulders, and the most beautiful gray eyes I've ever seen. He had lightly tanned skin, and a square handsome face, looking somewhat like Tom Welling, but not as beefy as him. Even though he wore a button-up shirt and long pants, I could tell what lies beneath is well worth looking at.

"Hey!" Linda almost shouted. I jumped.

"What?" I snapped, a little annoyed that I'm being rather rudely interrupted from my few seconds of fantasy.

"What are you looking at?" she demanded. I nodded behind her. She and Stacey both turned around and ogled.

He glanced back at us for a moment, and smiled. Stacey shrieked and turned back around. I kept staring at his eyes, until my heart raced so fast, I had to look down into my Blizzard, which was beginning to melt. Oh my God! He was looking at me! He noticed me! I wanted to giggle like Stacey, but I swallowed it down with the melted portion of my Blizzard.

"God, what's the matter with you?" I heard Stacey whisper to Linda. "You're engaged, remember?"

"That doesn't mean that I can't comment on whether a guy is cute or not!" Linda argued back in a hushed tone.

Just then, a hear him say "thank you" to the cashier, and I glanced up to see him walking towards us! Gah! I'm gonna die!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him take his place alone across the isle from us! Did he do that on purpose?

I looked right at him. Linda and Stacey were dead silent, watching our every move.

He smiled right at me as he unfolded a newspaper, sipping his drink. I'm dying! Help! His looks are killing me!

"Hi!" he said. He had a deep and young voice, and had a slight English accent to it. Wait - did I just faint? No, I didn't.

"H - Hi," I stammered back, my face aching from smiling so much like some kind of stupid idiot. Stacey was giggling me up a wall! Linda had a mischievous smirk on her face. And my heart felt like it was going to stop in any minute.

"Are you from around here?" he said to me again. He _did_ have an English accent! Awesomeness!

"Uh...no," God! Why do I have to sound so stupid? Make sense, self!

"I am!" Stacey chimed in rather loudly. "I, like, know this town like the back of my hand. So I can, like, show you around sometime! How about it?"

"Stacey Brown, shut up!" Linda hissed, kicking her.

"Actually, I was looking for a young lady to deliver a package to," he stated, still looking at me. "I believe this is the right town, but the address is rather far from here."

Just then - something clicked. A package with a guy from England? My package? My heart began to hammer again.

"For who?" fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. I felt stupid once again.

He swallowed his Pepsi, and turned to me. "Do you know someone by the name of Jade Donnelson?"

"Yes!" I gasped, jumping up. "That's me!"

He was a bit startled from my sudden outburst of joy, the he leaned away from me. Now I scared the poor fellow! I sighed, and sat down again. "Yes." I said again. "I'm Jade Donnelson."

"Well, then," he smiled. "Allow me to finish my dinner, and I'll fetch the package for you. All right?"

"Hey," I smiled back. "No problem!"

---

After we finished our Blizzards, and Adrian Fraser - who happens to be the hot English guy's name - finished his burger and fries, we all headed out to his car. Actually, it was Jeep Liberty.

He unlocked the Jeep, and opened the door to the backseat to grab a plastic sack. He handed the sack to me.

"May I ask why you ordered it?" he inquired with a raised brow, still gripping tightly to the package that I also had a hold on.

"I -" I'd better lie. "I collect unusual keys. My habit is getting a little expensive, so this is my last one."

"I see..." he hesitantly released the package into my possession. "You should show your collection to me sometime." He went on in a rather flirtatious tone, stepping closer. I gave a nervous glance to Linda and Stacey.

"I've just moved here, so," I heaved a sigh. "I still need to unpack them."

"That's all right," he reached into his pocket, and handed me a little white card. "Here' s my name and personal number in case you care to contact me."

"Sure," I cautiously took the card from him, now a little unnerved by his behavior.

"I'll see you later," he said, before getting into his car, starting it up, and driving away.

Now my heart was beating, not out of excitement and joy, but out of fear and suspicion. I looked at the card in my hand. It was plain, free of any graphics or symbols. Just his full name and his personal cell-phone number.

_Who is this guy?_ I thought nervously._ Is he after my mirror? Is he after me? Or both?_


	4. The Mystery Unveiled

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 4 - The Mystery Unveiled

It was pretty dark as I headed home from Dairy Queen, right after I have received my package from Adrian Fraser.

_Adrian Fraser_... The guy creeped me out from his mysterious personality, as well as took my breath away from his charm and superb looks. He had the most dazzling and sparkling gray-blue eyes I've ever seen. They looked as if he had a light shade of eyeliner on, but I know he wouldn't wear eyeliner, being a guy and all. Or would he? Why did he ask me _why_ I bought the key? How well did he know the person who posted the ad?

How come---

_"WHOA!!"_ I swerved back into the right lane right in time, as a horn-blaring SUV roared by. Gasping for breath, and trying to calm my speeding heart, I shook my head roughly, trying to get Adrian out of my mind until I reached home. Shit! This guy nearly killed me just now!

---

Munching on Ritz's at 12:23 at night after a salmon dinner with rice Mom cooked up, I sat cross-legged on my bed, unwrapping the package. I had to just set it on my desk when I got back, because Mom wanted me to eat my dinner and do the dishes afterwards. She announced that she got the job at the Bakery today, and she had the interview over the phone. Mom didn't seem like the type to work at a bakery. She would fit in better at a gym, or a nursery, or something she liked better than baking. But she baked, and she was excellent at it, too.

I pulled the brown paper from around the old wooden box, and tossed it aside. The box felt dusty to the touch, and slightly rough where the veneer began to wear off. But it was in good shape, nonetheless. I ran my fingers over the carving on the lid, wiping the dust away to reveal the matching 'EICo.' symbol.

Taking a deep, shakyish breath, I pulled up the gold latch on the front of the box, and lifted the lid open. I took in my breath until my lungs were full of air when I saw what was inside. The key. It was exactly as it was pictured on Ebay, but the whole thing was as long as my hand - from my middle fingertip, to my wrist - with a thick, twisted, bronze chain looped through the key's loophole. I touched the cold, dark, goldish metal, and lifted the key out. It was a little heavy, but that was okay, since the chain did add to the weight a little bit.

Turning it over and over in my hand, I studied every inch of it. There were engravings of a leafy vine wrapping around the whole thing, except the part where it was supposed to go inside the lock on the mirror. I looked at the mirror directly in front of me, as well as my reflection. To me, I looked dumbfounded, just sitting there on my bed like an idiot, looking at a big, old skeleton key like I've never seen one before, wearing my silly pink and white bunny slippers and all. Then my gaze drifted off to the right side of the frame, where the lock was.

Now was the time to unlock the mystery. _Ha-ha, that sounds funny. _I thought as I walked around to the foot of my bed towards the mirror. _'Unlock the Mystery', like it was some kind of subtitle to a stupid mystery book or movie._

I stood in front of the mirror for a moment, taking in any second thoughts. Nope. I'm unlocking it. I inserted the key, and it slid right in like butter. Cool. I turned it to the left. Wouldn't move. Rats! I twisted it to the right. _CLICK!_ Went the lock, and the 'door' popped open when the lock was released.

Smiling like a moron, I pulled the 'door' open, my heart gaining in speed, expecting to see...maybe a long-hidden painting, maybe some documents, maybe some valuable jewelry on little pegs and shelves...maybe nothing but the back panel of the mirror. I closed my eyes as I continued to pull it open until it slightly bumped against the wall, and I could open my eyes again.

A deep breath later, I opened one eye, and then the other...

What's this??

My jaw dropped open. A _closet_?! There is a _closet_ in the _mirror_?! No frigging way! I shook my head and shut the 'door' again, and opened it again. It was still there.

"It's just a realistic painting to throw somebody off, I'll bet!" I thought aloud. Then I reached my hand in, and it went in. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I decided to actually step inside this thing. Cautiously, I placed one bunny-slippered foot inside. It was stable enough to hold me. Okay, so I gripped the sides of the mirror and pulled the rest of myself inside. Slowly I turned around, and saw my bed and room. Then I turned back around, and took a step towards the blackness of the closet. The coats, which felt like velvet, silk, wool, and some kind of scratchy material rubbed by my bare arms as I took that step.

And then, for some reason, I decided to slip out of my bunny slippers and set them right at the 'doorway' of the mirror before I turned and continued on. From the light coming from my room, I could see shelves and shelves of white, ruffly shirts, and more shelves of pants of every color and fabric one could imagine. As my eyes adjusted more, I realized that these clothes were historical! 18th century, to be more correct.

Suddenly, I stopped stalk-still when another realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I am _in _the 18th century right now? I'm in the closet of some guy from the 18 century? All closets lead to the bedroom, right? Right. Okay, so I'm heading straight into some 300 year old guy's bedroom in the middle of the night. Great. Love the notion.

I groped through the closet as I stepped further and further from the entrance, and further and further towards wherever the exit might be. Reaching out before me, my hand brushed against what felt like a wall. I traces along the wall, until I touch what felt like a doorknob. Right, so this is the exit door into the 300 year old guy's room. We all shall see how this goes. I gripped the doorknob, and turned it, and pushed the door open.

I flinched when the door creaked a bit as it opened. Then I blinked when I saw the big canopy bed before me. The drapes were drawn closed, so I could not see who exactly laid in that bed. Shrugging to myself, I crept across the wood floor, my toes curling into the cool wood as I drew nearer and nearer to the side of the bed.

Holding my breath, I lightly drew the white curtain aside. Right there, with his back to me, was the 'guy', fast asleep. His hair was brown, wavy and close-cropped, and since all I could see was the side of his face, he could be young and handsome. I studied the rest of him. He was short, from what I could tell from his length under the covers.

_I can't believe it! This is actually happening! I'm actually here back in time! _I thought, a big grin growing onto my face. Just then, a reddish glow coming though the curtain from the other side of his bed brought my attention. What was happening now?

I let the curtain fall, and stepped around the bed, and halfway there, the floor creak really loud! I froze. Oh no! I can hear him stirring! Quickly, I took a huge, quiet step until I was on the opposite side of the bed, where I could see the 'glow' was coming from. The window. The sun was coming up!

Wait - THE SUN IS COMING UP?!?! It's only midnight! I scanned the room for a clock somewhere, when I heard the clock beginning to chime behind me. I turned around to check the time, when I almost had a heart attack -

"AAHHH!!" I yelled aloud jumping back from a barrel of a pistol being aimed right between my eyes! "Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" I held my hands up as I backed into his desk, which stood right in front of the window. Great spot to put a desk, too. But that's not what I'm concerned with right now. Right now, the guy I was watching sleep was standing in his nightgown aiming a little old-fashioned pistol right at me.

"Mr. Mercer!" he shouted. Wonderful! Now he's calling for another guy to haul me to jail! "Mr. Mercer!"

I gulped, my throat suddenly feeling dry and pasty from my rapid breathing. His bright blue eyes angrily studied me. I must've looked pretty strange to him, being in my sleeveless blue pajamas and all.

"Who are you?" he asked me firmly, his English accent clipped and cold, his eyes boring into mine.

I opened my mouth to speak, trying to force some kind of sound out. "I..."

_RUN!! _screamed in my mind. And I did. I dove past him, and he tried to make a grab for me, but I was too fast, and I scrambled into his closet as I saw his door come banging open out of the corner of my eye. Even though I couldn't see, I kept running through the blackness. "She's gone in there! After her!" I heard the guy's voice shout from his room. I heard heavy bootfalls running behind me as I aimed for the golden light, which was my room.

As the bootfalls came closer, I hopped out of the mirror, and slammed the door after I was half-startled to death by some old, angry, ugly guy's face coming into view with a sword in hand. I turned the key to lock as I felt vibrations and distant pounding and banging coming for the other side form Mr. Mercer and whoever he had with him.

I pulled the key out of the lock and slowly backed away until I sat on the foot of my bed, watching the mirror vibrate until it ceased.

"So, _that's_ why Adrian wanted the mirror!" I whispered to myself. "It's a Magic Porthole!"


	5. The Sleepover

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 5 - The Sleepover

"Jade?" my Mom's voice snapped me back into reality. I quickly put on the chain which held the key around my neck, and crawled into bed the minute the door of my room came open.

"Jade?" Mom said again. "How come the lights are still on? It's well past midnight!"

"I know," I sat up, and switched the light off. There were three light switches in my room. One was next to my bed by the door, which turned on the 'big' light in the center of the ceiling; and there was another one across from me behind the mirror for the two sconce lights between the windows; and the other one was inside my huge closet, which was very convenient for me, since my old house didn't have one at all.

Now that the room was dark, Mom was about to shut the door again, when she had another thing to say; "What was all that loud noise I was hearing?"

"I..." damn! "I tripped over my chair."

"You should keep it away from your bed," she answered. "Good-night, Jade."

"Good-night, Mom."

The door shut, and the room was dark. I sat up in bed, and watched the mirror for the rest of the night.

---

_BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! _

I jolted tremendously out of a deep, blissful sleep from the startling beeping of my digital alarm clock. A great bolt of pain shot through my head as I rolled over and sat up. Groaning, I placed my feet on the bare hardwood floor, and flinched. I needed my slippers.

MY SLIPPERS!!! Holy cow! I left them in the mirror!!

I hesitantly stood up and wobbled groggily as I stumbled over to the mirror, feeling the weight of the key around my neck.. Dare I open it again? Would Mr. Mercer be waiting on the other side, ready to plunge his sword into my heart the minute he saw my face?

Nope. Not gonna do it. I'm too spineless and lily-livered to take that risk again. My slippers were considered history...literally. Turning away, I headed out of my room for the bathroom to wash up and dress for work, deciding to forget about the whole thing for now.

---

"Unnngh..." I groaned, trying to ignore the dreadful headache I was having at work later that afternoon.

"You know, there's Tylenol for that," Linda snapped. I couldn't blame her, because I was groaning and moaning and bitching for the last three hours about it.

"I need to sleep," I answered. "I didn't sleep at all last night. You will not believe me if I told you what happened. Not even _I _believe me."

"Are you sick?" Stacey asked, placing her hand on my forehead.

"No, I'm not!" I retorted, swiping her hand away. "I'm just really, really, really tired."

"Then save until after work, because you're driving me nuts!" Linda grumbled.

"Like, whatever!" Stacey threw up her hands.

Linda rolled her eyes, and went on about her work.

---

Three Tylenol tablets later, I was feeling like a million bucks when Stacey, Linda, Mike and I closed the store. Right now, I really want to tell them all about my magic mirror, and my encounter with some 300 year old bastard who sent soldiers after me, and chased me all the way back to the future.

Settling down in my usual seat in the front corner of Dairy Queen, across the table from Linda and Stacey, sipping soda drinks. Mine was Mountain Dew, Linda was Pepsi, and Stacey was Mug root beer.

"So what do you need to tell us that you think we wouldn't believe?" Linda began. She was always the starter of every conversation, here.

"My mirror I found," I answered. "It's magic."

Linda chuckled. "Right. Sure it is!"

"No, really!" I insisted. "That key Adrian Fraser gave to me last night, I unlocked the mirror, and it took me straight into someone closet 300 years ago!"

"Yeah, and did you know that _Chronicles of Narnia_ was actually a true story?" Linda sarcastically joked.

"Cut it out," I returned, staring her in the eye, with no inclination of a smile on my face. "Do you two have time for me to drive you to my house, so I could prove to you that it was real?"

"Yeah. Sure." Linda rolled her eyes. She's gonna pull an eye muscle if she keeps doing that every time she gets annoyed about something. "Okay. We have time. But we have to go right now, because I need to be home by at least ten to get enough sleep."

"I takes a long time to even get there," I explained. "Maybe you guys could spend the night if you bring sleeping bags."

"Like, is this like a sleepover?" Stacey asked excitedly.

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "I have tons of popcorn, and a great movie selection."

"Cool," Linda finally smiled. "Let's go."

---

Linda and Stacey live in the same house together, so it was easy for them to pack a change of clothes and grab a sleeping bag. At least, it was for Linda. Stacey was another story.

"Stace, come _on_!" Linda shouted from the bottom of the stairs. "We're spending _one frigging_ _night_, not a _month_!"

"I know, I know!" Stacey's voice returned. A moment later, she came trotting down the stairs with a heaping duffel bag on one shoulder, and her sleeping bag on the other. She grinned sheepishly at Linda, who was scowling with her arms crossed.

"Let's go," she ordered her, and marched out the door, with Stacey right behind her. I followed after them to my car. Linda got in the front with me, and Stacey climbed into the back with all the stuff. I pulled out of their driveway, and headed out of town.

---

"God, you live way out in the sticks!" Linda exclaimed, getting out of the car, looking around. Her eyes stopped at the shed. Then she turned to me, looking a little disgusted. "Don't tell me..." she said, pointing to the shed. "You live in there?"

At first, I wanted to smack her, but then I realized that the house was totally out of sight. I burst out laughing for a long time. "I...I don't think so!" I answered once I caught my breath. Both girls looked at me like I was nuts, or something.

We hauled the 'luggage' out of the car, and went on through the gate, and headed down the path. Once in the clearing, both girls gazed up at the house.

"No wonder you laughed so hard," Linda commented, before continuing to follow me and Stacey.

Once inside, Mom came into the kitchen and smiled at the sight of my new friends. "Sleepover, I see!" she happily remarked.

"Yep," I proudly answered. "I invited them over for the night."

"Great!" she answered. "I'm Suzanne, Jade's Mom." she held out her hand to them.

"Linda Buckley," Linda shook her hand first. "Soon to be Linda Tollman," she added, holding up her sparkling engagement ring.

"That's wonderful!" Mom grinned happily. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," said Linda.

"And you are..." she turned to Stacey. Stacey held out her hand.

"Stacey Ross, Linda's first cousin," Stacey answered, shaking Mom's hand.

"Well, it's sure nice to meet you Linda and Stacey," Mom said.

"It's nice meeting you, Suzanne," Linda and Stacey said in turn.

"Let's go upstairs," I suggested.

---

Linda plopped across my bed, listening to her pink IPod, as I searched every inch of my room, searching for my bunny slippers to prove myself wrong that I left them behind. Stacy was on the Internet, glued to a chat line. I was beginning to wonder if it was a mistake inviting them over, and revealing to them a big secret of mine. They were still strangers in a way, but I seemed to have the desire to make them my best friends. I never had any close, close friends where I used to live, so this was a great thing to have.

Linda took off and put away her IPod, and turned to make conversation to me. "So what about this mirror?"

I perked up, relieved by the broken silence other than the _clickety-clickety-clickety! _of Stacey typing on the keyboard, which also ceased when Lisa piped up.

"All I have to do is unlock it and show you," I said, taking the wooden box with the key from under my bed. I set it next to Linda, as she and Stacey eyeballed it with curiosity as I opened it. Taking the key out, I went over to the mirror, and shoved the key into the lock. Then I turned to my friends.

"Stacey, I have my wooden bat from high school softball in my closet," I nodded towards the closet. Stacey obeyed me, and opened the door, and rummaged around until she pulled it out. I spoke to Linda next.

"There is a bee-bee pistol in the bottom drawer of my dresser." Linda went over to my dresser, and pulled the drawer open. She poked through my clothes until she found the black handgun. "Is it loaded?" she asked nervously, holding it between two fingers like it was a dead rat.

"Yes, it's loaded," I groaned. "It's only a bee-bee gun, so hold it normally! And aim it at the mirror when I open it, understood?"

Linda nodded, carefully taking the gun into her hands. Stacey held the bat up in the air, ready to strike in any moment.

"Ready?" I said. Both girls nodded. I turned the key, the door popped open, and, after holding my breath for a moment to allow the tension to build, I pulled the door open. No one was there. Hooray! We all let our breath out in unison, Linda and Stacey lowering their weapons in relief, yet staring in shock at the closet within.

"No freaking way!" Stacey whispered, walking towards the closet. She jabbed the bat inside, pushing some of the fancy coats around, just to make sure no one was hiding in there. Then she reached in and took a coat off the peg!

"Oh, God! Don't do that! Put it back!" I whispered loudly to her. This nervousness can't be good for me!

"Why?" she smiled. "This, like, so cool! I'm so glad that I, like, believed you!"

Linda peeked behind the frame, just to make sure that I didn't build a closet behind it to pull her leg. She was wrong. Shaking her head in disbelief, Linda poked her head into the closet. "Gosh, I sure wished I had a closet like this! Look at all these clothes! Check out these shoes!" She reached down beneath the shelves on the right, where all these leather buckled shoes were lined up in a row, and removed a burgundy pair. "Aren't they unbelievable?"

"The whole thing is unbelievable," I answered, basking in my friends' awe. "You should meet the wearer of those shoes!"

"Is he cute?" Stacey eagerly butted in, trying to squeeze into the green coat she snagged.

'Sort of," I answered her. "He's pretty short, and had a really bad attitude. He tried to shoot me!"

"What?" Linda gasped. "You mean...you mean you actually _met_ the person who owns this closet?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "And he's a real jerk, too!"

"Can we go in and meet him, now?" Stacey pressed. "I want to meet him! Please? Please?"

"I don't think so," I shook my head. "Personally, I don't want to come up against that guy again, if you ask me."

"Why?" she whined, scrunching her face into a pout. Linda rolled her eyes and sighed, tossing the bee-bee gun onto my bed.

"Oh, what's the harm in it, Jade? _I_ would like to meet him, too!" Linda stepped past me, giving me a defiant look, and stepped up into the closet! "Come on, Stace!" she smiled, before going in. Giggling with glee, Stacey pulled off the coat, and went in after her, and they were gone. My head spun for a moment before I came back to my senses. I've got to stop them!

"No! Linda! Stacey!" I called after them. "It's too dangerous! He could have you all arrested!"

_What's wrong with these people?_ I thought as I heard Stacey and Linda going deeper and deeper into the closet, oohing and ahhing at all his clothes along the way. _Dammit_! I snatched up the bee-bee pistol Linda left on the bed, and went in after them, knowing full well what's going to happen next.


	6. Held At Gunpoint

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

**Sorry for the loooooooooooooooooooooooooong time it took me to update. The County Fair is just around the corner, and I'm making 3 sewing projects to enter. I've got till the 24th of this month to finish them all, and then I can put up Chapter 7!! **

**Thanks for your patience you guys! And now - **

**Our Feature Presentation...**

CHAPTER 6 - Held At Gunpoint

Groping around in the dark, my hearing being my only 'locater' of Linda and Stacey, who happened to be whispering somewhere in this closet. For some reason, they are completely retarded for even going in here.

"Linda!" I hissed into the darkness.

"Over here!" her voice hissed right next to me. "What do you want? Why are we whispering?"

"Because he'll hear us! You don't want to be caught, do you?" I whispered back.

"No."

"Then come on! Let's go back!" I urged.

No answer.

"Linda?"

No answer, still.

"Stacey?"

No answer from her, either. Where did they go?

Just then, I heard the door to his closet come open! I held up my bee-bee gun, ready to fire onto anyone who came towards me. But all I saw was his room as usual, dark and uninhibited for the night. His bed curtains were tied back, showing that he wasn't sleeping in there, nor was he even in the room. Linda and Stacey walked into the room and looked around. Then Linda turned around a smiled back at me.

"The coast is clear, so put the gun away and come out of there!" she whispered at me.

I took a deep breath, prepared for another chase back into my room from Mr. Mercer and a few dozen redcoats. Stepping into his room and waiting for a few seconds, no one came. A little relieved, I began to search about the room for all possible places my bunny slippers could be.

"What are you looking for?" Stacey finally asked after a few minutes of watching me.

"My bunny slippers," I answered casually.

"Your _bunny slippers?!_" Linda repeated, as if she didn't hear me right.

"Yeah," I answered, getting down on my hands and knees to peek under the bed. No slippers. "I left them behind last night when I ran from Mr. Mercer and his men, so I had no time to get them back."

"Bunny slippers," Linda repeated again. "Like, the kind of bunny slippers that have a face, with wire ears, and a little cotton tail in the back?"

"Yep," I grunted, getting back onto my feet. "He's got them somewhere."

Just then, Stacey noticed another door where Mr. Mercer and the redcoats came through last night.

"Where does this go?" she asked as she walked towards it.

"No! Mr. Mercer and his men came through that door!" I hissed as loudly as I could, but Stacey already turned the knob, and pushed the door open. No one was on the other side to greet us, but the railing of a balcony.

"Oh my God!" Stacey gasped. "This is the rest of the house! Come on!" she waved us over, and headed out onto the balcony. I groaned irritably.

"Oh, come on!" Linda argued. "You need to get more adventurous, Jade! You only live life once!"

Well, since I was the only one that was armed somewhat, I decided to go along with these retards, and tucked the bee-bee gun into the waist of my pajama bottoms, and followed them out.

It was a gorgeous view of the house from the top of the balcony. But since Linda and Stacey were already heading down the stairs, I had to keep up with them, and enjoy the view some other time. Once we all reached the bottom of the stairs, Linda wanted to continue forward down the hall, while Stacey wanted to go up the hall, and I wanted to go back upstairs and go home.

"What's the point?" I argued. "Does it matter which way we go?"

"Why don't we all, like, go our own way?" Stacey argued back, flailing her arms.

"Because Jade says we can't split up at all," Linda answered her, rolling her eyes. Eye Rollin' Linda.

"Let's do 'Rock Paper Scissors'," I finally suggested. It was always the easiest way to make a decision, and it always worked for me. We all stood in a tight circle, and held our fists together, and shook them three times as we counted; "One...Two...Three!"

I was paper,

Stacey was also paper,

and Linda beat us both with scissors.

Dangit! We both groaned in unison with our defeat, as Linda smiled smugly. "Down the hall, everybody."

Reluctantly, we followed her carefully down the hall, as Stacey whispered. "I was actually going to be a rock!"

I didn't answer, but when we were reaching the end of the dark hallway, I noticed a woman standing with her back to us, waiting by a door. She was dressed in a 18th century formal dress, with a little veil thing on top of her head.

We all stopped in our tracks at the sight of her. She must've sensed our presence, because she turned around and saw us. Then she aimed a pistol at us!

"Who are you?" she demanded in a thick English accent. What's with all these English people? First Adrian then the short, ornery guy, and then this girl here. She studied us in wonder as she kept her gun trained on us.

Pajamas are sure getting a lot of attention lately!

"I ask you again, who are you?" she raised her voice a notch, snapping me out of my muse.

"I-um...I'm Jade, and these are my friends; Linda and Stacey," I pointed to each one of us as I said their names.

She slowly lowered her pistol as she stepped towards us. This lady was freaking me out, of some reason. Was it the way she was dressed? Or was is the strange look on her face?

"What are you doing in Lord Beckett's house?" she asked in a more careful tone of voice.

"Oh, so _that's_ his name, huh?" I smiled, glad that I'm getting some more information about this guy.

"What?" she was confused, now. Great. I don't care to explain all this to her. Better find a way out.

"If we told you, you would never believe us," I answered, thinking that would shut her up.

"Try me," she stated, narrowing her beady dark eyes at me.

"Who are you, first of all?" I inquired.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of light footsteps brought all of our attention. She peeked around the corner of the door, and then turned back to us.

"He's here," she said. "Stay out of sight!"

We all stepped forward and peered through the door, and saw Lord Beckett enter the room, carrying a lantern and reading a letter as he walked. How could someone do that without bumping into something, or tripping? He stopped at his desk and set the lantern down on top of it. Then he paused, like he noticed something suspicious. I saw him open a little box that was sitting atop the desk.

"No doubt you've discovered that loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm, as your father believes," he spoke a moment later.

Huh? What was he talking about? It took me a moment to sort out his fancy phrasing as our 'mystery woman' stepped into the office, pistol behind her back.

"Then what is?" she answered in the form of a question - obviously, stepping closer as he turned to face her, a very unsurprised look upon his face.

"I'm afraid _currency_ is the currency of the realm," he calmly replied, his blue-green eyes boring into her.

"I expect, then, we can come to some sort of understanding," was her remark as she continued to approach him, as he approached her. "I've come to negotiate."

"I'm listening..." he said, clasping his hands behind his back, giving her that 'expectant' look. God, I hate those! Just then, she took one aggressive step closer to him, whipping out her pistol, and aiming it right between his eyes. My heart leapt with gladness. Hah! Take that, mister! Now he knows how it feels to have a gun in his face!

Lord Beckett, however, did not even flinch, no less show any sign of surprise or fear. All he said was, "I'm listening _intently_!"

She held up a leather packet of letters, as she went on; "These letters of marque, they are signed by the king."

King? King who? I wanted to figure out which King she was speaking of, but I was distracted when he answered. "Yes, and they're not valid until they bear my signature _and_ my seal."

"Or else I would not still be here," she sarcastically answered, or so I think. "You sent Will to get you the compass owned by Jack Sparrow. It will do you no good."

I'm puzzled. I'm puzzled big time. Letters of marque signed by some king? A compass? Will? Jack Sparrow? What's going on, here? Just then, my eyes drifted down to his feet, which were partially hidden by her dress - he was wearing my bunny slippers!!

"Do explain," he said, a smirk playing onto his face. Heck, I know what he's thinking...alone - _supposedly _alone in a room, wearing _my_ bunny slippers, with an attractive girl who was being aggressive to him with a gun, and standing dangerously close to him to top it all off. Some guys are turned on by that, and he's definitely one of them.

"I have been to the Isla de Muerta," she said. "I have seen the treasure myself. And there is something you need to know..."

As I watched, I wanted to see if she noticed him wearing bunny slippers...

"Ah, I see!" he sardonically replied, that smirk getting bigger on his face. "You think the compass leads only to the Isla de Muerta and so you hope to save me from an 'evil fate'." He turned away from her, walking towards a wall that I can't see, as he kept talking. "But you mustn't worry. I care not for cursed Aztec gold. My desires are not so provincial," he turned partially back to her. " There's more than one chest of value in these waters..." he began to slowly approach her in a way that made my stomach turn. This is going to get ugly! He's gonna jump her! I just know it! "So perhaps you may wish to _enhance_ your offer..." he continued, as if he was reading my dirty mind. I knew perfectly well what me meant by that!

But the girl was smarter, and was apparently reading my mind as well, because she took that pistol, stuck it under his chin, and cocked it. Bingo! Sorry, dude! This chick's too smart for you, and certainly not attracted to you, either!

Just then, after a tense moment, I saw her slowly look down at his feet, and an amused look tried to worm its way onto her face.

"May I ask what you find so amusing about my slippers?" he jeered. She looked up at him and glared, and kept the pistol aimed at him as he walked away from her, towards his desk. _MY _slippers! They're _mine_! He _stole_ them, for Pete's sake!

"Consider into your calculations that you robbed me of my wedding night," she spoke, following him, and shoving the letters into his chest. My heart leapt again - _that was a little too fresh there, girl_...

"So I did," he quickly replied, opening the pouch, and taking out the letters. He signed the letter, as he kept talking in an absentminded way, "A marriage interrupted..." he put a red stick thing into a candle flame, and stamped his seal from the red stick. That was probably sealing wax they used in these days. " ...or fate intervenes?"

Marriage interrupted, or fate intervenes. He obviously wants her to himself, or he wouldn't have wrecked her wedding in the first place! Greedy little bugger!

Then he folded the letters up, and handed them over to her. "You're making great efforts to ensure Jack Sparrow's freedom," he remarked.

Jealous, now, aren't we?

She grasped them, trying to tug them free of his grip. "These aren't going to Jack!"

"Oh, really?" he sneered, glaring at her. "To ensure Mr. _Turner's_ freedom, then. I'll still want that compass. Consider _that_ into your calculations."

She glared back at him, and finally yanked the letters free. Slowly backing away, her pistol still trained on him, she quickly turned, and scurried away out the doors of the balcony where he came in earlier.

And that was approximately when Stacey decided it was the best time ever to give us away - "_ATCHOO_!" she sneezed. Then, she covered her mouth, her blue eyes growing wide with fear, fully realizing what she had just done.

My heart was pounding from being startled so badly. I shot a death glare at Stacey, and glanced over at Lord Beckett. He was looking right at us! _SHIT!!_

I turned to my friends. "It's best if we ran for it!"

**A/N: I changed Stacey's appearance a little - she has long, chocolate-colored, curly, brown hair instead of light blonde. Jade's the blonde!**


	7. Caught!

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 7 - Caught!

No sooner than we were 10 feet away from the door to head for the stairs back to his room, his voice was echoing throughout the hallway; "Sergeant of the guards! Sergeant of the guards!"

We sprinted for the stairs at top speed, and didn't stop until we were out of breath when we reached the landing. I kept an eye on the hall archway, and listened for bootfalls and shouting that were coming closer and closer to us. Then Lord Beckett finally appeared in the hall, where he stopped and looked around. Several soldiers joined him when he spotted us. Pointing in our direction in a dramatic way, he ordered; "There they are! After them!"

"Hurry!" I shouted to my friends. Stacey let out a squealy shriek as she followed Linda and I inside. I slammed the door shut, and we all made a break for the closet, when my foot intertwined with Stacey's, who fell, bringing me down with Linda into a heap on the floor.

"Shit!" I spat, pushing myself up. "Get up! They're coming!"

"Get _off_ first!" Stacey demanded from under me. Great! We were in a mess, and by the time we got our bearings, the door swung open. I froze in fear, and so did my friends. I felt a pair of strong hands pull me up by the arms, until I was on my feet. Glancing around, I saw that Linda and Stacey were also caught. This was bad! Really, really, _really_ bad!

Two soldiers at the door stepped aside to let Lord Beckett inside. He stepped right up to me, until our faces were inches apart. I was nauseous from nervousness, so I held by breath just in case he had bad breath that would make me barf. I _did_ get a good whiff of his cologne, though. And he had the most interesting eye color I've ever seen; blue-green. Not turquoise, but just blue-green. Can't explain it. And those blue-green eyes were examining every inch of me until his blue-green eyes met my light brown. An egotistical smirk played onto his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. He was a good 2 or 3 inches shorter than me, by the way. Short guys always have the 'bigger-than-himself' attitude.

"Well, well, well," he crowed. "It seems that your intrusions have developed into a habit." Then he turned to a tall, white-wigged guy behind him. "Lieutenant Groves, fetch some irons."

The tall white-wigged guy nodded without a word, and stepped out of the room. Irons? My first image of 'Irons' which popped into my head was a branding iron. No way! That's too odd! Stirrup irons? No, that doesn't make sense. Before I could think of another meaning of 'Irons', my answer arrived back five seconds later, a pair of old-fashioned handcuffs! No! We can't go to jail! My mom will freak!

The soldier who had me tightened his grip on my arms as the cold, heavy metal was latched around my wrists, and locked shut with a key. Crap! Now I'm totally screwed! I glanced over at Stacey and Linda, who were also getting irons on their wrists, too. They were not any happier than I am, obviously.

"Take them to the prison," Lord Beckett ordered. "I will have them back by the morning to be interrogated."

"What's going on, here?" I finally was able to utter a sound from all this shocking occurrences. "We're not criminals, you know!"

"We'll see," was his cold remark, as he stepped aside to allow the soldiers escort us out of the room.

"You know..." Stacey called after him. "You're, like, all what_ever_!"

Linda gave her an annoyed look. "I can't believe you think that made sense."

I called after him again when were about halfway down the stairs. "And I want my bunny slippers back!"

Beckett stepped out onto the landing, his arms folded across his chest, smirking away. "I don't see how that's possible."

But before I could answer him, he stepped back into his room, and shut the door. We were led down the great, long corridor, into the enormous foyer, and out the humongous door. Such a big house for such a little guy!

We were loaded into a carriage that was waiting outside for us. Once inside, I took notice that the seat was make of black velvet, which matched the black velvet drapes hanging in the windows. I guess this goes with the whole 'here-we-go-to-prison' occasion we're participating in.

A moment later, the carriage lurched into motion down the bumpy moonlit street. I peered out the window at the dark, gloomy houses, and the black, frightening alleyways that will make your hair stand on end. Suddenly chilled and frightened, I leaned back into the seat as I waited until the ride was over.

I looked down at my irons. They looked way to chunky for my wrists to be in, and the metal was beginning to dig into my skin where it came together to lock. Ouch! I pulled one of the metal bands around, to move it to another position, so it would stop pinching me.

Just then, the carriage lurched to a stop, and the door was opened a few seconds later. The fierce, glaring prison guard looked in at us. He shook his head. "Women, eh?" he drawled. "Don't get to many o' those, nowadays. Come on, lassies! I haven't got all night!"

We were roughly helped out of the carriage onto the stone street. As the carriage rolled away, I gaped up at the huge, yawning entryway to the prison, which was made of stone, with very few windows. Scary, gloomy, and cold, is all I can think of right now.

We were taken inside, which was darker, scarier, gloomier and much more noisy than it was outside. The calls, cries and whistles of distressed prisoners were heard everywhere, echoing through every corner of the building.

I knew Stacey and Linda were also terrified, because they were walking very close to me, on both sides, staring at their surroundings. What was going to become of us? Were we going to be put with other prisoners? The very thought of that sent another tremendous chill coursing through me. I had never felt this freaked in my entire life. Well...I take that back - I broke my leg falling off a roof. But this beats it by a long shot.

The guard led us downstairs, into a more close area. Jail cells were lined up in a row, and one cell had a whole bunch of grimy, grisly male prisoners. Ew galore! And to add to it, we were put in the cell right next to theirs!

The door was slammed shut and locked, and the guard walked away, and went back upstairs. Stacey groaned and sat in the corner. Linda just stood by the door, where I was.

"I can't believe this is happening," she sighed. "How are we going to get home? What's going to happen to us?"

She gazed down at her wedding ring, her eyes welling up with tears. I really felt sorry for her, and felt even worse for even showing them or telling them about the mirror. Heck, we wouldn't be here, in the first place! Why didn't I just grab those two, and pulled them back in my room? Why did I even involve them?

As I was mentally beating myself up, I felt a sudden tug on the back of my fitted, gray tank top. Gasping, I turned to see myself being grabbed by a grimy hand of our neighboring prisoners! Letting out a screech, I violently pulled myself away until my shirt broke free of his hand. My heart felt like it was going to explode, it was pounding so hard.

Backing towards my terrified friends, I knew we were in for it. About twelve grimy, scrawny, slimy arms were pushed through the bars, waving around as the prisoners whistled at us like we were dogs.

"C'mon, pretties! We ain't gonna hurt ya!" they eagerly whispered to us. Stacey whimpered as she stood, pressing her back against the stone wall, watching the prisoners with fear in her eyes.

"Jade, make them stop!" she whispered to me. "They're so, like...disgusting!"

After a moment of watching these guys futilely trying to get us over there, which we were totally _not_ going to do, I was fed up with it. I looked down to think, when I spotted a good-sized throwing stone next to my foot.

"Bonus!" I said, picking it up, and hurling it at them. I guess one of there were hit, because I saw an arm retract, and a voice shout; "Why, ye little whore!"

"Right back atcha!" I shouted back at him, like calling him a 'whore' made any sense at all. "Just leave us the hell alone, you grossies!"

"'Grossies'?" he cackled. "What kinda word is that, missie?"

I just crossed my arms, and glared at them, and they glared back. Some were still trying to coax us over there, waving their arms, whistling at all. Linda sighed nervously, and Stacey whimpered again, sitting back down, and hugging her knees to her chest.

This was going to be a long night.


	8. Interrogation Day

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 8 - Interrogation Day

The strong beams of the sun shone right into my face as I began to drift out a dark, dreamless slumber into consciousness...

_Hold it!_ Where am I? From the looks, sounds, and smells of things, I am clearly not at home, in my room! I began to panic, when I sat up and noticed Stacey and Linda laying on a bed of old trodden-down straw across from me, under the barred-off window, where that annoying sunlight came streaming through.

Then it all came back to me... The mirror... The woman holding...Lord Beckett? at gunpoint...Us being arrested...

We were in jail! Holy crap!

Groaning in irritation, I slowly got myself onto my feet, flinching from the morning stiffness in my ankles and knees as I slowly shuffled over to my friends.

"Wake up, guys!" I whispered to them. They began to stir, rubbing their eyes and yawning widely. Stacey opened her eyes, and gasped.

"Where am I?" she gasped in horror, sitting straight up, nearly bumping heads with me.

"We're in jail," Linda groaned, also sitting up. "Remember?"

It took Stacey a few seconds to figure it all out. "Oh, yeah...that's right..."

Just then, we heard footsteps echoing throughout the building, coming closer and closer to us. Stacey gasped again. "Jade! Let's, like, try and get out of here, before someone, like, has our heads cut off?"

"No one is going to cut anyone's head off," I reassured her, before Linda had the chance to say one of her sarcastic remarks. "I think, if I can remember...that Beckett guy said something about interrogation."

"Yeah, but for what?" Linda argued, leaning against the bars of the cell. "We aren't enemies of his, nor are we even from this century!"

"I'm sure he will find out for himself," I added. "Sooner or later."

Just then, the footsteps brought in Lieutenant Groves, and two soldiers - one thin, one fat - and stopped right in front of our cell. Stacey jumped to her feet and smiled.

"Oh, look, Linda!" she squealed, pointing to Groves. "It's Grover!"

I covered my face with my hands, and tried my best to hide a loud guffaw. Why, oh why, is Stacey Ross so STUPID?!? Mental images of Grover from Sesame Street all dressed up like the Lieutenant just cracked me up totally! At least I could make some money from PBS for suggesting that idea, anyhow.

"Stacey, you moron!" Linda almost screamed at her. She turned to Groves. "Sorry about that. She's not...you know...all there..."

"Hey!" Stacey protested. But the look on Groves's face was like stone, completely expressionless, although he was quite handsome, and Linda was taking it _all_ in. I thought she was engaged? She just had that smile glued onto her face as she gazed at him through the bars.

The jail keeper unlocked the door, and the soldiers and Groves stepped inside.

"His lordship requests the presence of a certain young lady," he announced. "The one who called him an..." he paused to think exactly what it was. "...an 'all whatever'."

Stacey broke out into a fit of giggles as the two redcoats took her by each arm and escorted her out of the cell, with Groves at their heels. The door was shut and locked, and we were alone again.

Linda let out a sigh. "That guy is so cute," she said dreamily. "I wonder if he's married?"

I couldn't let my friend be unfaithful to her fiancé! That wouldn't be right at all!

"But, Linda," I tried my best to discourage her thoughts. "You're engaged, remember? You can't be thinking of other guys, right now!"

Linda sighed, a sad cloud dropping over her, making her shoulders slump. She hung her head and looked at her sparkling ring on her finger, as she tucked her shiny, straight, chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. "I can't." she croaked out.

I began to become nervous from her sudden unhappiness, at the mentioning of her being engaged. "You can't what?" I urged her to explain.

She looked up at me, her bright green eyes glistening with tears. "I haven't seen him in over a year...maybe once or twice. I think he has another girlfriend, but I just ignored that possibility, and kept my questions to myself. He started ditching me at parties and when we go shopping, and is always on his stupid cell phone! He always talks about his deals at work, and money, and his friends I've never met but once. I don't know what to think, anymore."

This was sad for Linda to be going through. What _if_ her fiancé was cheating on her? What if she found out if he actually was? I don't know her that well, and I've never met her fiancé before...so I can't be all sure if she was just wanting my sympathy, or this was really what she was feeling.

We sat in silence for a good hour or so; just picking straw and dirt out of our hair and from beneath our nails. Finally, they marched back with Stacey, who looked completely confused as anything. I was so eager to find out what happened. "So?" I pressed the minute they pushed her inside. But Groves cleared his throat again, bring all of our attention from Stacey to him. That 'gaze' was stuck in Linda's face again! She so digs him to the point of _her_ being in the wrong of cheating!

"His lordship now wishes to interrogate the other dark-haired lady," his gaze was now on Linda, who I half-expected to faint from his attention towards her.

"Okay!" she squeaked happily, leaping towards him, and out of the cell. This time, it was my turn to roll my eyes. I turned my attention to Stacey.

"So, what happened?" I asked her. If she was hurt in any way, I will _definately_ kick ass! Stacey, whose back was towards me, took a deep annoyed sigh and turned around to face me.

"That little shrimp won't, like, believe a word I say!" she wailed out, all of a sudden. "He, like, thinks I totally know this guy named Jack Sparrow, and I was, like, 'no way!' And he was all, like, whatever, and was, like, totally pissed, and I just wanted to _so_ kick his ass, and he kept, like, having that guy walk around, and I really think there's something up with him, and he kept asking me these, like, weird questions, and I was, like, 'shut up!', and he was like, 'no, just answer the question!', and I was like, 'no freaking way!', and he, like, told those guys to take me back down here, and I, like, just was _pissed_!"

I just stood there, staring blankly at her, and the whole area fell silent, since Stacey was on the edge of shouting by the time she finished her spill. Perhaps I was the only one who thought of this, but I think Stacey is in dire need of an interpreter for the 'Ditzy Valley-Girl' language. I could not understand a single sentence she spoke. No wonder Groves seemed so irritated when he returned with her!

---

An hour later, Linda was brought back, with the same expression on her face that Stacey had. Obviously, if I could try and make sense of Stacey's rant, perhaps all of it was true.

"What happened?" I questioned her as soon as she was escorted inside the cell.

"He won't believe me," she sighed. "He thinks I'm a spy for someone named Jack Sparrow, and I told him again and again that our arrival was an accident."

"But, he should-" I was cut off by Lieutenant Groves, who grasped my by the arm.

"You're next, miss," he flatly stated, pulling me out of the cell, into the custody of the two soldiers.

---

Lord Beckett's office was magnificent, and I couldn't help but to gaze around in complete awe, when I heard him enter behind me...with ol' Mercer at his side like a faithful dog. He kinda _looked_ like a dog, too, now that I think about it...

His hands clasped behind his back, Beckett slowly walked by me, making his way to his desk and throne-like chair, which set behind it, opposite of where I was sitting.

"So..." his voice got my attention at once. "You must be the initiator of this supposed 'accidental' entering of my home. Tell me, how _are _you able to enter my bedchamber through my closet?"

"That's easy," I smiled stupidly at him, on purpose, of course. "Through a magic porthole!"

He looked at me, his blue-green eyes boring into mine, just the same way he did last night. "Could you be more specific...whoever you are?"

"Oh, yeah," I chuckled nervously. "Bad manners, I have. My name's Jade Donnelson, and my very descriptive specifications on how I got here would be a little difficult to explain." I tried to come of as a smart-alec, but it wasn't working very well. Beckett stood right in front of me, and bent over into my face. From that range of view, I could see that he's in need of a shave, and that he has a cute little freckle on his chin, almost completely covered in his unattended five o'clock shadow.

"_Explain_, Miss Donnelson," he demanded.

Explain what? About the mirror? Would it be safe to? I'm going to have no choice, now that he's ready to probably have our heads cut off for supposedly breaking into his house!

"I have a mirror," I simply answered.

He raised a brow. "A mirror? How does a mirror relate to your crime?"

Crime? "My Mom and I moved into a hundred-year-old house, and I found this old mirror in the attic. I bought the key for it, and when I unlocked it, it came open into your closet! Need I say more?"

He was shocked, I could tell. Although he made a great effort of hiding it on his face...which I thought was pretty handsome, by the way.. as he straightened up, he tore his eyes away from mine, and walked towards a huge map on the wall to my right.

It was a hand painted map, obviously, since I see an old man on a step-ladder, tediously and painstakingly painting on details where the Atlantic Ocean lies. The map was purposely unfinished, since the Pacific side of the world was pretty much undiscovered.

Beckett stopped and turned to me. "You _were _under the hire of Jack Sparrow, weren't you?"

I rolled my eyes. "For Pete's sake, I don't _know _Jack Sparrow! The first I've even heard of him, was when that lady mentioned him as she made you sign those letters last night."

A little evil smile spread across his face as he slowly stepped back towards me. "So, you've all met Elizabeth Swann."

"That's her name?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"Indeed," he answered, walking around behind me. I feel totally nervous when I can't see him, it's like I can't see what he's up to. "You do realize that you and your friends will be imprisoned for ten years, for trespassing into my home, don't you?"

"Ten years?!" I shouted back at him, jumping to my feet. He quickly shot a warning look to Mercer, where I could see out of the corner of my eye pulling out a long dagger, ready to stick me of I try to knock Beckett one, which I'm really, really wanting to do at the moment! Ten freaking years? That's ridiculous! Totally and completely mindless!

"Yes, Miss Donnelson," he assured. "Ten years; unless you will find a way to repay me of your crime." He picked up a crystal glass, which was filled with some sort of a maple-colored liquid of the alcoholic category, and poured in into a glass. "Care for some brandy?"


	9. The Drunken Plot for Freedom

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 9 - The Drunken Plot For Freedom

I was blowing my mind when Beckett glanced briefly up at me, his eyebrows raised expectantly. Oh. Right. The brandy. Should I get all soused, just invent some idiotic idea to get me and me friends out of jail for the next decade? Sure, why not? Never drank before, but - it's no biggie.

"Yeah, I guess," I reluctantly sighed with a shrug. I saw that smirk on his face as he stepped up to me, and handed me the crystal glass. It felt cold and heavy in my hand, and the smell rose up to my nose, gagging my insides. I glanced back up at him, and he was still standing there, waiting for me to chug it down.

Hesitantly, I held my breath to avoid smelling it, and slowly raised the glass to my lips, and took a teeny-tiny little sip...

_**YUCK**_!! Who in their right mind would even stand this stuff? It's disgusting! Nasty! It burned the crap out of my mouth!

I handed it back to Beckett, who did nothing. "I expect you to finish it," he sniffed, sauntering away, his hands back behind his back. He must be comfortable that way, I guess. As for this glass of brandy...

"I also expect of you to state truthful answers to any of my questions, Miss Donnelson," he went on, heading back to the map. I managed to bite the bullet, and take another brave gulp of this crap he offered me. Why in the world did I take it? "Are you, or are you not, associated with Jack Sparrow?" he turned to me, partially.

I forced myself to swallow the next gulp I took before I choked out an answer. "For the trillionth time, I don't even know him! Can't you hear me? Are you deaf? Are you stupid? Are you completely and totally retard-"

"Mr. Mercer, if you please," he turned to dog-face, who marched up to me, ready to punch me, or cut me, or something, so, in my oncoming drunken state, I had to think fast. I thrust the glass up into his face, making come to a sudden halt with a surprised and puzzled look on his face, as I grinned back at him.

"Down the hatch!" I quoted from John Wayne in _McLintock! _Then I swilled down the last inch of brandy, and let out a content sigh. I was getting drunk, and I knew it.

I tottered over next to Beckett in front of the map, as he watched me all the while with an amused look pasted on his face. My vision began to blur a bit, and I felt lightheaded and goofy, and incapable of controlling what I did or said. But I think I might remember all of it, despite being buzzed.

"I thhink I can complete thisss for you," I bit myself on the tongue. _Dang it, Jade! Stop slurring your words! _

"How?" Beckett simply urged me to say more. I tried my best not to slur my words, but that was little use.

"We're from thhe twenty-first century. That's why I talk differently, and look differently. That's how we even got here, was through a magic mirror. I can tell you exactly how the world looks - no - I can bring you books on history since now until my year, and books on modern science, and pictures of what the surface of what the moon looks like in space, and copies of documents written a hundred years from now that changed the world, and paintings and cameras, and TV's, and even your very own radio..."

I leaned forward onto the map, placing my hand on a painting of a ship, down where the Caribbean was, as I gazed at all the rest of the map.

"I can be your source of the future." I finished with a whisper.

The map painter stopped work, saw me, and let out a furious gasp. "The preposterousness of you! I've worked for weeks on that piece!"

Beckett snapped out of his trance, and took hold of my wrist of the hand that was pressed against the map, and gently but firmly pried me off and away from the map. I looked down at my palm to see it covered with a thick smear of brown and black paint. I glanced over at the map, to see a fuzzy image of a black and brown smear on where my hand was. _Great! I've destroyed the ship! Darn!_

While the map-painter was still sputtering at me, Beckett called up to him. "It's all right, Mr. Wheeler. I will pay you to repair your ship." Then he turned to me, and sighed deeply, obviously still recovering what all I had said, while sorting out the billions of questions forming in his mind. Then my drunken state took the better hold of me, and I managed to whisper "sorry" to him as I wiped my paint-covered hand off on his jacket!

Only after the fact did I notice that I did a major boo-boo! And I mean _major_! I gasped and looked fearfully into his eyes. He glanced down at his jacket, saw the hideous stain, glanced up at me, and sighed irritably as he turned to dog-face Mercer, as he unbuttoned and removed his jacket.

"Mr. Mercer," he said. "Would you mind taking this to be cleaned?" he handed the jacket to Mercer, who took the jacket, and marched out of the room. When he was gone, Beckett turned back to me. I was afraid he would smack me silly for ruining his blue jacket, that he had probably took great pride in.

"It would take you a bit of time to explain all of what you had said to me, Miss Donnelson," he stated. "But, in the bibulous state you're in, that would not go well."

"I'm sorry for...for wiping paint on your coat," I stammered. "I can't think right now..."

"Are you alert enough to tell me what sort of mirror you used to enter my bedchamber?" Beckett inquired. Only then did my eyes drift past his shoulder to a painting behind him. The painting was a full-sized portrait of himself, holding a cane, and looking really egotistical with his nose pointed up into the air an all. But that was not the reason why I was absorbed with the painting.

Off to the left of him, was a black flag...with the '_EICo_' symbol on it! That was the connection! I walked right past him, and right up to the painting. He was at my heels, grasping me by the shoulders, and pulling me back a few steps.

"Please," he said into my ear. "It would be best if you kept a fair distance away from anything of which is painted in any fashion."

"Huh?" was the only thing I could say. "I was just saying...thhat symbol thingy on your flag was what was carved on the top of the mirror. I felt him stiffen with surprise. As I waited to see what he would do next, I felt nausea swim through my stomach. _No, no. No, no. Stay down! Don't come out until later, please! _

I begged my insides as Beckett walked around me until he was in front of me. His unreadable blue-green eyes studied mine as he asked me yet another question.

"The Mirror of the East India Trading Company," he said in his calm and steady voice. "Where did you find it, and how were you able to enter it?"

My mind was beginning to jam up, thanks to that glass of brandy he insisted me on drinking. "I...uh...I got a key...and...uh..."

"Take your time, Miss Donnelson," he icily suggested.

I pinched and rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to regain my fuzzing memory. Then a little came back to me. "Ah!" I looked right at him. "I...I bought the key from this guy named Adrian Fraser, and that was-"

"Fraser?" he interrupted, blinking his eyes in surprise. "You possibly could _not _mean George Fraser; son of my father's brother?"

"Huh?" slipped out again. "Wait...he's your_ cousin_?"

"George, yes," he stiffly answered, walking away back towards the brandy table, after taking the empty glass out of my hand to refill. Refill?! No, I can't-

"Care for another brandy, Miss Donnelson?" he smirked at me while pouring another glass for himself and another for me.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I answered as politely as I could, keeping my slurring successfully in check.

"I insist," he curtly demanded, stepping up to me, pushing the glass in my hand. I glanced down at the full glass, before glaring up at him.

"Why," I asked. "do you want me drunk?"

"I simply want your answers, miss," he cockily answered, daintily taking a sip out of his glass.

Just then-something hit me. Not literally, although I wish that would happen, but I just realized something about all this alcohol consumption we were having.

"Aren't you English people supposed to be drinking tea in the morning, and booze in the evening?" I inquired incredulously, with that 'teenager' tone in my voice and a raised eyebrow to top it off.

"Why, of course, Miss Donnelson," he simpered back at me. "It's just a matter of choice."

I sighed. I can't get anywhere with this guy! "Can I sit down? I don't feel like standing and walking around anymore." It sounded like a bitchy complaint, which it actually was.

"Of course," he said, escorting me to a little round table at the corner of the room with two chairs. He pulled one out and I sat in it. After taking his seat next to me, he continued to drill me about Adrian and the mirror.

"How did you come upon Mr. Fraser for the key?" he narrowed his eyes at me as he swirled his drink around in his glass.

"On the Internet," I answered flatly, knowing what his reaction will be. A slight confused frown, and a "Inter-what?"

"I told you," I replied with a sigh. "It's going to take lots and lots of time to explain my twenty-first century world to you!"

"Was the key in a wooden box, bearing the same symbol as on the mirror?" he went on, ignoring my little rant.

"Yesh," I accidentally slurred out. My second glass was already half empty. Dang! I don't want to be hooked on booze! That would be bad! That would be _very _bad!

A light thoughtful sigh escaped Beckett as he leaned back in his chair, studying me unwaveringly. Well, actually...it was more like _staring _at me unwaveringly. Shrugging, I tore my eyes away from his, and downed the rest of my glass. Before it hit the table, he snatched it out of my hand and got up.

"Have another, Miss Donnelson," he stated, heading for the brandy table again! I will not - I repeat - will not become alcoholic! Besides, this kinda reminds me of that Brad Paisley song "_Alcohol_", but I must not allow myself to become all pathetic like that.

Two and half seconds later, he was back, setting the newly filled glass of brandy in front of me.

"Tell me more, Miss Donnelson," was his simple demand, as he settled down next me, scooting his chair closer to me. Now he's getting friendly! I get it! He's getting me all drunk and shit to 'get some'! No freaking way, man! I won't lose my virginity to a 300-and-something-year-old guy with an attitude problem! I'll die first!

"Miss Donnelson?" he asked again, now sounding like he was taking right into my ear. First sign of total drunkenness. Everything is REALLY FREAKING LOUD AT THE LOWEST VOLUME SETTING!!!!

"Uh-yeah..." I mumbled, carelessly finishing down my glass in one sitting. I rubbed my numbed lips together after I was done. Holy crap, they feel like I've used teething gel for chapstick!

"I can't say anythhing more," I slurred. "I really need to go." I stood up and steadied myself, as Beckett peered up at me from where he was sitting.

"Departing so soon?" he slightly chuckled. "Pity."

I blinked several times, ignoring him. Little green and orange blotches swam around in my vision, which was blurring along with my severe lightheadedness. I looked down at Beckett looking up at me.

"Shall I have Groves escort you back to the prison," he sneered.

I couldn't talk. I was way too drunk and dizzy to function... My vision began to fade, and my legs felt like they were going to give away. I felt myself falling down towards Beckett.

And then..._Gargh_! I can't remember anything else after I blacked out!


	10. What the Heck Happened?

**Sorry for the loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong wait. My Internet got disconnected due to an unpaid bill. rolls eyes Anyways, now that I've paid the bill off, and I'm up and running again - here we go!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 10 - What the Heck Happened?

When I felt myself waking up, I sure wished I hadn't. My head hurt from a nasty hangover from yesterday...or was it yesterday? Groaning, I rolled over and sat up. Blinking my eyes a few times to adjust them, I noticed that it was probably the middle of the night. Great! Another night spent in this stinking hole!

Both Linda and Stacey were asleep, so I'd better do the same thing, too. As I grunted to lay back down on the straw bed, I heard someone stir.

"Jade?" Linda's voice whispered. "Are you finally awake?"

"Yeah," I groaned out, rubbing my forehead - OUCH! Right between my eyes hurt something awful! I could feel the goose-egg, and my skin was really sore! "What happened?" I blurted out after noticing this hurt I couldn't remember getting.

I heard Linda giggle. Oh, God! What the heck did I do?

"Linda!" I hissed. "Tell me what happened, right now!"

"Okay, okay!" she said in between giggles. "Lieutenant Groves carried you in here, and said that you fell on Lord Beckett when you passed out."

"Is that why my forehead hurts so much?" I realized out loud. Man, was I totally embarrassed, now! I _fell _on him?! Where? How?

"Yeah," she answered. "And before we could even see you, you were singing in a really drunk voice, too!" She began to giggle again.

"What was I singing?" I asked, feeling really, really mortified now that I'm asking how pathetically drunk I was.

"You were singing 'Yellow Submarine'!" Stacey answered. "Oh my gosh! It was, like, totally hilarious!"

I was singing 'Yellow Submarine'?! I've only heard that song once in my life, and I don't even like the Beatles! What else, did I pee my pants, too? Did I sleep with Beckett before 'Grover' carried me in here? Am I pregnant, now? My mind and heart began to race with panic, trying to make myself remember even the tiniest bit of _something_.

"What else happened?" I demanded, sitting up suddenly.

"That's it," Linda answered with a shrug. "You passed out on him, and he ordered Lieutenant Groves to carry you in here." She let out a dreamy sigh. "Oh to be in your place!"

"Huh?" I raised a brow. _Now_ what was she talking about? I _didn't _sleep with him after all? I felt completely relieved, and much to my surprise...disappointed.

"To have Groves carry you!" she impatiently answered me, annoyed at my hungover personality.

"Oh...yeah..."

---

We all managed to sleep another few hours before Linda's love of her life arrived to take us all back to Beckett's office. Perhaps I could get a few answers out of him before he lets us go, because I don't think it's really a good idea to believe Linda and Stacey until he reassures me, or the opposite, which is what I'm really afraid of.

I couldn't help but stare at the palm trees and the ships in the harbor as we rolled through town in the barred carriage made just for transporting prisoners. We're in a tropical area? There's beaches, oceans and hot weather? I've always wanted to go to the tropics! But my excitement was put to an end when the carriage stopped, and the door was unlocked. Dang, I've still ol' Beckett to deal with.

We were led into his enormous house, when I looked up to the balcony over my head. I saw him standing there, just...watching us...watching me. My dread increased when I tore my eyes away, and followed Groves and my friends inside.

When we entered his office, where the balcony was, I stepped in between Linda and Stacey so I was the one he will address first. Better get this over and done with. I can't stand the torture any more.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Beckett sauntered right up to me. Keeping my face straight, my attention zoomed right onto a big black and blue welt right above his right eyebrow. Yup. I smashed our heads in when I passed out.

"How are you, Miss Donnelson?" he icily inquired. Obviously, he wasn't too happy about it either.

"Super-duper, how's you?" I answered, keeping an oh-so-proper tone in my voice.

He pursed his lips together as he looked to someone behind him. "Mr. Mercer, would you return to Miss Donnelson her slippers?"

My heart skipped a beat. Yippie! I'm getting my bunny slippers back! Hooray for me!

Mr. Mercer, and his permanent scowl on his ugly face, marched around me, and placed my pink and white fuzzy precious slippers into my hands. Without thinking, as blondes like me usually do, I hugged my slippers to me like they were a kitten or a puppy or something like that. It was only after I noticed the disturbed stares from Beckett and Mercer was when I caught myself kissing them on their heads. For some reason, Beckett was the only person I've revealed my true personality to. And he seemed to not enjoy it very much.

"As you all may know," he went on. "Miss Donnelson has negotiated with me in exchange for freeing you."

"What was it?" I heard Linda whisper to me. I couldn't answer her right away, because he started talking to me.

"And I _insist_ that you return _alone_ tonight at seven o' clock. You will dine with me, and we shall discuss the future of this world, of which includes any information that you are in possession of. Do you understand, Miss Donnelson?"

I guess I looked a little like a blithering idiot, just standing there, with wide brown eyes, and my mouth held agape. I couldn't believe my ears. He's asking me to dinner?

"Miss Donnelson?" he repeated, rather sharply enough to jolt my out of my stupor.

"Uh, y-yeah," I stammered, blinking my dumbface away. "Seven tonight. It's a date."

"Pardon me?" he blinked back. "A 'date'?"

"Yeah, " I shrugged. "Kinda like...you know...setting a date for a dinner between people of the opposite genders so they could get to know each other better. It's called 'dating'."

"I believe..." Mr. Mercer finally spoke up, which surprised me. He's never said a word since I've seen him. "She is confusing this simple meeting with courting!"

"I WAS NOT!" I loudly protested, causing everyone to jump from the sudden change in volume of sound.

"You were," Beckett, of course, agreed with his best pal, who was obviously stating the truth of my ultimate blondness. "This is a simple meeting, Miss Donnelson. Our familiarity will not progress beyond business, is that clear?"

"Transparently," I nodded back. He's being all indifferent with me, now. Last night, however, was a different story.

"Very well, then," he said. "Please return to your...world, if you please. Lieutenant Groves will escort you to the door of my closet."

I was grabbed by the arm by a soldier, while my other arm held tightly my bunny slippers, we were all lead right by Beckett, who turned to me and added in a low voice; "By the way, please return in something more..." he looked me over with a disgusted look on his face. "..._decent_ to wear."

"Jerk," I mumbled under my breath as I was pulled into the hallway, and out of his view. Like what did he mean by that? '_Decent_' to wear?

We were taken up his stairs, into his room, and we all stopped at the doorway of his closet. Just then, Groves grasped Linda's hand, and kissed the back of it. _Now_ he's making moves on her?

"It would be a pleasure for me to be seeing you again, Miss Buckley," he said to her in a voice that would make any sane girl swoon. No - I do _NOT_ belong in that category!

Linda giggled, her eyes sparkling with joy. "You _will_ see me again."

"We, like, need to go," Stacey demanded in an annoyed voice.

We finally were able to get Linda and ourselves inside the dark, crowded closet. Groves shut the door behind us, so we were left to ourselves to grope around in complete blackness until my aching forehead made contact with the wall.

"OW!" was the result.

The 'wall' was opened a little from my impact, letting in some light, so we could all step out into my bedroom. I turned around, shut the door of the mirror, and locked it. Without even checking how bad my bruise was, I had to go tell Mom that we're back!

"Come on!" I said to my friends. "We've gotta tell my Mom that we came back!"

"She's probably gone to find us already!" Linda argued. But I was already out the door, around the railing, and down the stairs.

I nearly collided with my Mom, when I threw my arms around her. "Mom! Mom! We're back! It's been like forever! I should've told you!"

"What?" she pushed me gently away, just as my friends came down the stairs. "What are you talking about? What's going on with you?"

I stepped back, dumbfounded. Why was she acting like this? Heck, we've been gone for two days! How could she say that? As we stared stupidly at each other...something else clicked in my head...

"How long did you think we were gone?" I carefully asked her. She blinked, even more confused than before.

"Like...forty-five minutes," she answered with a shrug and frown. "I was just coming up to ask you all if you wanted some chocolate pudding for dessert."

Holy freaking crap! I exchanged completely shocked looks with Linda and Stacey.

It _was_ true!


	11. Realizations

**Hurray! I got to update! And you're lucky! Enjoy.**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 11 - Realizations.

"Honey?" my Mom whispered in that small, light concerned 'Motherly' voice, placing her hand on my forehead. "Are you all right? Did something happen upstairs? Were you..." suddenly - she cast a furious glare in Stacey's and Linda's direction.

"Oh, my God!" she almost shouted, pointing an accusing finger at them. "If you two even _thought_ of bringing drugs into this house - I swear-"

My friends' eyes widened with fright. Now my Mom thought we were _smoking_ _pot_?! Is she crazy?!

"No, Mom! Stop! _Stop_!" I couldn't stand the sound of this, at all. She was being really a pain-in-the-butt lately, and it was beginning to get on my nerves. "You know I don't do that, Mom! Stacey, Linda and I are totally clean! Why would you ever say that?"

"Then what happened, Jade?" she snapped back at me, her hands on her hips, and a scowl on her face. I hate it when she frowns like that. It makes me feel insignificant, and that I've let her down in some way.

But this whole 'drug' thing wasn't worth explaining - because it _doesn't_ need to be explained since there were _no_ drug use in the _first_ place!

"Never mind," I sighed, flailing my hands. "Come on, guys, let's go upstairs."

Right there, Mom was left behind in mid-sentence of a long, boring, 'say no to drugs' lecture, as we turned and headed back up the stairs to my room. We needed to figure this out. And we needed to figure this out, _now_.

---

Approximately an hour later, I was in bed, and Linda and Stacey were in their sleeping bags. In the dark, I heard Stacey's voice - _again_;

"This was, like, supposed to be one sleepover," she explained. "But we've, like, had a total of _three_ sleepovers! Can't you, like, believe it?"

"Yeah," I groaned, half-asleep. Really, I didn't feel much like talking, now, but Stacey's mouth had been rattling on and on for about an hour. "Cool. Go to sleep, now, will you?" I rolled over away from her, and pulled the blanket up to my ear. Hopefully, she will shut the heck up for the rest of the night.

---

She didn't shut up. She kept talking and talking about why time had stood still, and how this all relates to the _Chronicles of Narnia_, blah, blah, blah. Finally, Linda had to sit up and scream "SHUT UP, STACEY!!"

That was that. And that was about 1:35 in the morning.

Now it was 7:13 in the morning. We were dressed, and ready to head outside to go hiking around the property for the rest of the day, since it was Saturday, after all.

"Oh NO!" I heard Linda scream from the bathroom, startling me enough to smear brown eyeliner I was applying to my right eye. "My necklace! Oh, my God, I lost my necklace! Where is it?"

"How should I know?" I snapped back at her, trying to wipe the line off the corner of my eye. "Did you take it off last night?"

"NO!" she screamed again. So, she was panicking, right now. She was panicked enough to throw the door open, wearing her matching purple underwear, and head into my room, rummaging around for some necklace she wore. I think it had a green pendant on a gold chain or something. Never noticed it at all.

"Don't you have another one?" I asked, fixing my error on my face.

"No, my grandma gave it to me for my 21st birthday, and I never, _ever_ take it off!" she frantically explained. Finally, with an angry sigh, she threw down her jacket, and sighed again, trying to think. I could see her in the reflection of my 'magic' mirror I was using, just standing there, scratching her head, her back to me. I couldn't help but noticing a bright red heart with a ribbon around it, tattooed onto her lower back.

"Where'd you get that?" I smirked. Just wait until 'Grover' sees that one!

She turned towards me, puzzled. "What?"

"That heart on your back, where'd you get it?" I polished my lips with some pink clear lipgloss.

She looked down at it, and then sighed. "I got it when I was sixteen. My parents freaked out when they saw it, and they wanted me to use my college money to have it removed."

"So, obviously you didn't, as I can see," I smiled back at her.

"Right," she strode back to the bathroom. "So...they kicked me out."

What? Did I just hear her right? "Over a _tattoo_?!" I gasped, walking towards the bathroom, where she was pulling on a brown tank top.

"Yep," she answered. "They said that 'Ungodly' people wear tattoos, and pierce any part of their bodies - including their ears. They are total religious freaks."

"That's so wrong!" and it was, too. "My Mom and I are Christians, and we go to church, but we don't think that way! We accept each other's choices."

"I like your Mom," Linda grinned. "What happened to your Dad?"

Just the word opened up a fresh wound which just healed. My eyes teared up, and a hard lump formed in the base of my throat. Looking down at the hardwood floor, I just answered her as simply as I could.

"He died," I choked out. "Car accident."

_Dang you, Linda! _I wanted to scream at her, but I understood why she asked. She was just asking a simple question. People would think my parents are divorced, or something, but that was not the case. My parents loved each other dearly, and genuinely. It was a like a giant foot come out of nowhere, and crushed us when we found out what happened to him. I hated automobiles for a very long time, and refused to go in one for two years. That was when I had to go see a therapist about that weird problem. I still resented cars, but they're the only transportation that exists.

The only ride I enjoyed was the carriage in Lord Beckett's world...

Suddenly, as I was walking to the other side of my room for a Kleenex - it hit me! Carriages! The only world I knew of without vehicles was _there_! And I am the only person, outside of Linda and Stacey, that could...live there?

My heart pounded as I carefully dabbed my eyes with a Kleenex. I have a date with the guy tonight, and then maybe...he'd like me? I could live with him? Is that proper back then? Would I ever like him?

Rolling my eyes, I knew that would never happen, for it was way, way, way too soon to tell. Still, I had my placing the future with my 'information' I offered him, he could grow to like me.

Right now, thought, I have to like him for him to like me.

No, no, I don't need a 300 year-old-boyfriend, right now. I just need to be friends with him, first. Yes, that's a better idea.

---

We hiked in the woods for about an hour, then we decided to head into town to watch a movie in the theatre. On my way there, of course, Linda piped up. "You know, about that date with what's-his-face tonight, my neighbor makes costumes. I think she'll have a nice dress for you to wear."

"Really?" and really, I was interested. "Why don't we skip the movie tonight, and go there?"

"That would be, like, great," Stacey snorted. "Because I've heard that this movie is, like, boring."

"Yeah, let's go!" Linda agreed. "She's in the green house."

A moment later, we pulled up in front of her house. Someone seemed to be home, so we all got out, and headed towards the door. Linda was the one to knock, and a stout, middle-aged woman answered the door.

"Hi, Linda!" she smiled. "What brings you here?"

"I have a friend going to a...costume party...in Seattle," she answered hesitantly. "She wanted to be an 18th century lady."

"That would be me," I laughed. She smiled at me, as she looked me up and down.

"I think I have a very nice dress that would fit you," she answered, pushing the screen door open. "Come on inside!"

We stepped inside the house, and followed her to a large room in the very back, which was full of colorful costumes, in every theme and style that exists; Middle Ages costumes, Civil War uniforms, fairytale outfits, Peter Pan replicas, cheerleader uniforms, exotic dancer outfits (seriously!), and a gorgeous dark gray-blue brocade 18th century dress on a dress form. The front and cuffs were outfitted with dark blue ribbons, and the neckline and cuffs were trimmed with antique lace. It was magnificent!

As I stood there gawping, she walked right up to it, and pulled it off the form, revealing the 18th century 'underwear' beneath it. Oh no! A corset! Just my luck! Why do I have to wear that thing?

"Yes, this will definitely fit you!" she beamed, holding up the dress to the front of me. "And it goes perfect with your coloring, too! But after you use it, I want it back the first thing in the morning, free of any damages. Is that clear?"

I was so excited, I had trouble coming up with the right words to answer her with, other than:

"Inescapably."


	12. The 'Date'

**Please copy and paste anything that looks like it's slipping between past/present tense. I keep getting told about that, and I've reread everyhing, and I haven't noticed anything like that. So if you notice it, highlight the scentence, copy and paste it into your review. I will fix it! Thanks for all the reviews, people!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 12 - The 'Date'

"AAGGHH!!" I howled as Stacey pulled the strings of my 'stays' as hard as she could. "I can't breathe!" I wheezed. "Stacey! Stop pulling! You're gonna crack my ribs!"

"You have to, like, fit in this dress," Stacey answered me, with an annoyed sound in her voice. "Besides, look what this thing does to your boobs!"

I looked down, and, man was she right! Hey, my boobs are the smallest of the three of us at a 36A, but they looked more like a 36C from what this corset was doing to them. They looked like two white mounds sticking up from the top of my shift-thing.

"On, you go!" Linda sang out, lifting the dress over my head. I raised my arms, and pushed them through the sleeves. I could feel Stacey buttoning up the back.

"Fits like a glove," Stacey said a moment later. "I was right pulling hard, wasn't I?"

My breathing was shallow, and constricted, much to my annoyance. But I managed to turn around towards the bathroom mirror, and gawk at myself.

My hair was done up in a loose, fashionable bun with a couple of ringlets framing my face, and Linda had done a great job with the makeup. I looked _awesome_! No, I'm not bragging about myself, but this is totally, comp-

"Don't forget this!" Linda interrupted, lifting up a plastic grocery bag full of some of my textbooks and my laptop for me to see. Nodding, I couldn't talk, because of the corset. Crap, how could I even function properly with this thing on?

"Is...it...seven, yet?" I panted out with what little breath I had left to spare. Stacey pulled out her cellphone, and flipped it open.

"Yeah, you're good to go," she smiled, snapping it shut. "Like, come on!"

I quickly walked out of the bathroom, and stepped in front of the mirror to admire myself some more. I looked exactly like those 18th century ladies, which would please 'his lordship' well enough. I guess this is what he meant by something '_proper_' to wear.

"Wait!" Linda cried, before I was about to unlock the mirror. I turned around to see her dig into her purse, and pull out what looked like a small red packet. She walked up to me, and was about to hand it to me, when she suddenly pulled it away to ask me a question. "First, are you on birth control?"

Holy crap! That question was like a slap in the face!

"What are you talking about?" I nearly shouted back at her, snatching the red packet out of her grip, and peered at it to see what it was.

Oh...my..._God_! She couldn't be thinking that I need a- I can't even say the _word_! "What is this for?" I gasped with horror, tossing it back at her. She rolled her eyes and sighed as she picked it up off the floor.

"Things happen, Jade," she explained in the same tone of voice my Mom would use. "I know about this stuff. I'm 21 years old and engaged, now. You need to be protected, in case-" I couldn't' stand her pathetic idea on life, anymore.

"LINDA!" I hissedgrowled at her. "We are _not_ going to be doing _that_! Not now, not _ever_! It's in the 18th century, and it's business _only_!"

Linda sighed and put the packet away. "I'm sorry. I always keep one with me just in case."

"Well..." I sighed, picking up the bag of the stuff I need. "I need to get going..."

With a deep, nervous breath, and smoothing out the front of my dress, I unlocked the mirror and stepped up inside the closet. Before I could go another step, I turned back to my friends.

"Okay guys!" I managed to say without sounding like I was dying. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck!" Stacey half-squealed, clapping her hands like a little girl about to get her favorite ice cream cone.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away, and headed into the darkness as the mirror closed shut behind me.

_Oh man, oh man, oh man! The last time I was out on a date, was three years ago with my High School crush at the movie theater making out like a couple of..._ I stopped in front of the door to his room. _...horn dogs! That guy was a 17 year old schmuck with pimples and rock-bottom grades who took up crack. This guy...is a freaking 30something year old English _Lord_ from the 18th century! Have I made a wise choice of improvement or what?_

But my nervousness defeated my gloating... _I could really screw this up...one time I forget to put my napkin on my lap, or I throw up or I..._I gulped down a lump in my throat_. ...get drunk...again. Maybe I should've taken that...no! Forget that! I won't get drunk! That is a solemn promise to myself!_

Heaving a sigh, and shifting the bag from one hand to the other, I lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in, Miss Donnelson," Lord Beckett's smooth British voice drifted in from the other side.

A smile creeping onto my face, I pushed the door open, to see him standing there, his back to me...well, he turned around when I pushed the door open, so...ah never mind!

A few lit candles were placed in various places in his room, giving it an eerie and mysterious glow...and it really brought out the good looks on Beckett's face as he slowly walked up to me. My heart was pounding so hard, it was outstanding for me to believe how it was able to find the room to do so. His eyes roamed from my face down to my chest...my face felt hot with a good dose of blushing when I saw a little, tiny smile appear at the corner of his mouth at the sight of the 'effects' of my corset. I have a feeling he was enjoying that one...

He continued to check me out, until he stopped at the plastic grocery bag in my hand. The bag!

"Oh...right..." I lifted up the bag, so he'd get a better look at it. "All the information to the future you need."

"You are most kind, Miss Donnelson," he purred...you know...that low, sexy voice that gave me goosebumps, and...never mind that part, but anyways, he took the bag out of my hand, and set it atop a trunk at the food of his enormous canopy bed. Then he offered me his arm to loop my hand through.

"Allow me to escort you to the dining room, my lady," he smiled. Gosh, he was good at this! I feel like some uneducated idiot, dang it! Just managing a smile back at him, I looped my hand through his elbow, which caused my heart to leap, because, you know, I'm _touching_ him!

We stepped out of his bedroom, down the stairs, and down the giant hallway together. As I gazed at my surroundings, I could feel his eyes on me. What was he up to, now?

"You look very beautiful, Miss Donnelson." he politely complemented me. There goes the 100 degree blushing again! I hope it's not noticeable, either. Nobody looks good with a read face...only slightly rosy cheeks.

"Th...thank you," I answered, with that unintentional stammer. Then we continued to walk together in silence, until we entered another huge room to the left at the end of the hallway. The table was the first thing that 'jumped' out at me. It was so beautiful! There were lit candles on silver candle stands, and our dinner was waiting for us there, covered with silver lids. Beckett, obviously, will be sitting at the head of the table, and I right next to him on the side.

Glancing down at the other end, I couldn't help but smile at the thought if he decided that I should sit at the opposite end instead. Bring out the megaphones!

Anyways, I walked around to where I will be sitting, and he, the perfect gentleman, pulled out my chair for me. I sat down, and he pushed me in. He seated himself at his end, right when a servant entered to take away our dinner lids. The smell and the looks of the food was totally mouth-watering.

But the best thing I should do is to watch Beckett's every move, like pulling out his napkin and placing it on his lap, and picking up the proper fork and knife to start cutting away at his meat.

As I began to get the hang of how to eat 'old fashionedly', like he was, he began to start a conversation.

"So...Miss Donnelson," he began. "How was your day?"

Ugh. Bad conversation starter, especially when our typical 'day' is 3 centuries apart! Seesh, what is this guy thinking of?

"Um...good..." I answered slowly and thoughtfully. "My friends, Linda and Stacey, stayed at my house last night. They've helped me get ready for tonight...and...well...you know...here I am."

"They've done a wonderful job on you," he looked down at his plate as he started cutting again.

"Thanks," I replied, thinking his words over._ A wonderful job on me_. What was I, a car? I fought the urge to groan and roll my eyes, and concentrated on eating like a 'little lady' once more.

---

After the delicious dinner, Beckett and I headed into his office to dig into my plastic sack of 'goodies', I brought for him.

"This Napoleon Bonaparte fellow is quite interesting," Beckett piped up a few hours later, as he sat back in his chair, absorbing himself in my history textbook. "But I must investigate this...American Revolution."

A feeling of dread came over me. What if I totally screwed up the course of history itself? But I blocked that thougth from my mind. In my world, it already happened. There was no stopping it...or is there?

"Now," Beckett marked the page he was reading with a blue ribbon, and slapped the book shut. "Tell me about this mirror you have. Does it really have the insignia carved into the frame?"

I perked up at this new topic he's switched to all of a sudden. "Yeah, it does. Why?"

He sighed as he stood up, and began to slowly approach his favorite spot - the window. "That mirror is the same mirror which I had made back in England some years ago. When it was finished, the craftsman sent it to a locksmith for a lock and key to be made for it to replace the mirror if it was ever broken, or to hide important documents inside if necessary. But...the locksmith only made the lock, but forgot to make the key. He sent the mirror to me, locked closed, with a note of apology." Beckett heaved a sigh before continuing. "I, of course, was not satisfied with the mirror, or his ludicrous mistake. At that time, I was quarreling with my cousin, George Fraser, who actually was the rightful heir of the position of a lord. Since his family bore the name, and not the finances, I was chosen as lord when his father died."

I couldn't' believe my ears. _Fraser!? _Is that why Adrian Fraser was so...weird? But Beckett kept talking, so I had to keep listening...

"I gave him the mirror, as a way of ending our battle. Of course, it didn't work. He sold the mirror for a high price, when that locksmith arrived his home, and gave him the key to the mirror. My poor cousin spend the remainder of his life searching for that mirror. No one knows what has happened to it..." then he turned his eyes towards me, looking like a wolf. Creepy. "...until now..." he began to approach me slowly, his boots thumping against the floor. I wanted to dissolve into the air, just to get away from him...but...he leaned close enough to me, that our faces were inches apart from each other. "What do _you_ know?"

"I found it in an attic of a house which was built in 1898," I quickly explained to him. My eyes felt glossy and heavy as I tried to open them as widely as possible, so I could finish explaining to him. "Since it's 2008 in my world, it's 110 years old. My Mom said it had been abandoned in the 1940's, and no one has lived in it since."

"Are you falling asleep, Miss Donnelson?" he asked, straightening up, as if he hadn't heard a word I said.

"Uh, no," I blinked. "...well...yeah...sort of. What time is it?"

Beckett pulled out his shiny brass pocket-watch, and peered at the face. "Nearly midnight. My word, how time flies! You should retire by now."

_Retire? _In my half-drowsy state, all I could mumble out was, "Huh?"

Beckett walked back behind his desk, and began to pick up the books I brought him. "Would you mind if I kept these books?"

"I'm outta school," I smiled back at him. "You can _have_ them."

He glanced up at me, and our eyes met and locked for a brief second, but long enough for my heart to start fluttering. That feeling unnerved me a bit, so I looked away before I lost my grip on my self-control, if you know what I mean...

"Thank you," he answered me softly. Oh, and his voice. Another trait of his, which gets to me in the worst possible way.

"I should get to bed, now," I yawned. "Do you mind if I go?"

Beckett just put my books away amongst his on the shelf behind him. He didn't bother answering me on this one. What was he up to?

As I waited, he picked up the now empty plastic sack, and looked it over curiously. "What is this made of? It's noisy and as light as down."

"Plastic," I quickly replied. "A man-made type of...all-purpose material."

"It's very strange..." he balled it up like a piece of paper, and glanced up at me again. "Would you mind if I kept this, as well?"

"I have dozens more, if you want them," I chuckled. He was beginning to crack me up. If I had ever brought him into my world, he would go crazy - he would run up against such foreign things like cars, TV's, microwaves, computers, and instant pudding.

"I would like to escort you back to my closet, my lady" Beckett politely declared as he sidled up next to me, placing his hand gently on my upper arm. My heart leapt with excitement. It took about 90 of my inner strength not to throw my arms around his neck, kiss him on his beautiful soft lips, unbutton his waistcoat, and...WHAT AM I THINKING ABOUT?!

"Um, sure..." I hesitantly answered. With what looked like a triumphant grin on his face, Beckett and I went arm-through-elbow out of his office, up the hallway, up the stairs, and into his room.

I tried not to stare at his bed, for the sake of mental images popping into my mind, and just headed straight for the closet, when I felt his hand on my shoulder. Turning around, I was afraid he'd-

"I request you to return tomorrow morning, Miss Donnelson," he...well..._commanded_ of me. "By 8:00, at the latest."

So, he wants me back! Is that a good thing? I don't know. But he went on...

"And I would like for you to return with some sort of...documentation of what the future holds for the East India Trading Company."

Computer work for tonight, then. What fun!

Trying not to groan, I covered it with a smile as I nodded a 'yes' to him. "Okay, I'll do that. But will you mind if I come back in my...'normal' clothes? I'd be more comfortable."

Beckett drew in a breath, as he let his lovely eyes wander over me again before answering. "As you wish, Miss Donnelson."

"Well..." I stepped towards the closet, and turned around to face him again. "Good-night."

"And good-night to you," he returned, taking up my hand, bowing, and pressed his lips against the back of my hand. How soft, and smooth they felt! The skin on the back of my hand began to tingle as he straightened up, and smiled at me.

It took a lot of effort to leave, but I turned back around, stepped into the closet, and headed straight through the darkness towards the back of the closet, the events tonight still fresh in my mind. And nothing went wrong! Hooray!

I stopped at the back, and gave a push to open the mirror...but it didn't move! I pushed again with greater force, and it still didn't budge! Oh, my GOD, Stacey and Linda Numbnuts had locked me in here!

"HEY!" I pounded against the wall. "Unlock it! Hurry up!" My heart began to pound with panic as I waited for it to open. But a few seconds passed, and nothing happened. I began to pound again, and harder. What was going to happen to me? I needed to get back! Where are they?

"STACEY! LINDA! OPEN THE FREAKING MIRROR!" I screamed at the top of my lugs, as tears brimmed my eyes, and a lump formed in my throat, and my chest tightened with fear...

_**I was trapped!**_


	13. The 'Rest' of the 'Date'

**Short, but sweet chapter. Enjoy!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 13 - The 'Rest' of the 'Date'

I _hate_ Linda and Stacey! I hate them, hate them, HATE THEM! Why did they lock me in here? There is no keyhole in the wall in the back of the closet, so if I get locked in, there's no way out unless the mirror gets unlocked.

"LINDA! STACEY! LINDA! STACEY!" I screamed again, sobbing, tears pouring down my face. Crap! My mascara which I gobbed on in thick layers is probably cascading down my face making me look like a total freak!

Suddenly, a hand touched me on the shoulder, startling the crap out of me. It was completely dark inside the closet, so I turned around, shrieked, and flung my arms out so that I accidentally smacked whoever came in to see why the heck I was freaking out of my mind. Of course, it was Lord Beckett. Nice move, Jade!

"Ouch!" he gasped. "Miss Donnelson, what is going on in here? Why are you not able to get out?"

Another wave of crying swept over me. I felt hopeless. I wanted to tell my friends about my date with him, but instead of leaving things as they are, they set me up and locked me in. No wonder Linda was wanting me to bring along a...you know...

"Miss Donnelson?" he asked, a bit more gently. "What happened? You've been screaming for those girls. Why?"

I couldn't stop from crying, yet I tried to explain in between sobs. "T-They locked me in here. T-There's no way out...un-unless they unlock it." I sniffled again, and tried to wipe away the mascara stains I figured that my face was covered with. "I can't get out."

I felt his hand squeeze my upper arms in a friendly manner. "I have a guest room you could stay in. It's just down the hall."

Sniffling again, I croaked out. "Thank you."

God, this was horrible! My whole body was throbbing with the after-affects of my panicking. I've never been through something like this, except when my Dad died - which I felt totally numb and hopeless.

Lord Beckett at first seemed very stand-offish, overly-formal, cautious, and now...he's the nicest person I've ever met.

I want him to be my friend.

---

Sitting down and looking around, I found this guest room very, very...gorgeous. I'm laying in an ornamentally carved four-poster bed, with royal blue curtains, which were embroidered with silver thread. At the foot of my bed was a wardrobe, called a 'clothes press' in this day, with a few changes of bed sheets and an unused nightgown I'm wearing at the moment with soft crocheted lace trim on the sleeves and neckline, which stayed on my shoulders with naught but a ribbon drawstring.

And I was right about the mascara - it was halfway down my face by the time I took a long look in the mirror of the vanity. Beckett had his eyeful, and was not the least bit horrified. He just escorted me three doors down from his room, and to the right, where this exquisite guest room was. It wasn't as fancy as his, but it was amazing.

Now, here I am, with a sparkley-clean face, freshly-brushed hair, and a long, flowing nightgown, in a bedroom fit for a princess. Maybe this wasn't a bad idea after all. At least Beckett didn't plan to bed me...which was good, of course...

I pulled back the sheets, and climbed into the soft, cushiony bed, and pulled the blankets up to my neck, and sighed contently. The dim candlelight flickered its dancing lights on the ceiling, which I can see since the canopy drape is still open. I don't plan on boxing myself in with those drapes, anyhow. It was plenty warm enough in whatever tropical area that I am in.

Finally, I managed to lean over and blow out the candle, so that I'm in the peaceful darkness now...ready for sleep.

---

I couldn't sleep. Every half hour or so, I'd doze off, only to wake up by every sound I heard. Was Beckett coming to my room? I got out of bed earlier to see of I could lock the door, which I couldn't without a key, so now I have to just lay here...on guard.

Maybe if I go and check to see of Beckett was actually asleep, just to put my worries at rest. With a few deep breaths, I slowly and carefully slid out of the warm, ultra-soft bed until my bare feet touched the hardwood floor below. Flinching from the sudden coolness my toasty feet touched, I stood up, and tiptoed to my door, and carefully opened it. The danged thing creaked a little, but I proceeded into the darkened hallway, and towards Lord Beckett's bedroom door at the buttend of the hallway.

When I was just centimeters from the door, I took a nervous, shaky breath when my hand touched the doorknob. Holding my breath, now, I gripped the knob, and turned it until it clicked open, whereas I pushed ever-so-lightly until it opened just a little bit until I saw his bed.

My heart sank down to my feet. He was 'boxed in' by the maroon canopy drapes. I have to go in! I wanted to growl in frustration, and stamp my foot, but I knew even as a blond, that was a bad idea. So in I went, on tiptoes, over to his bed, and very carefully pulled the drape aside...

...he was asleep. Whew! I was totally relieved...but then...something happened - I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He looked so peaceful and angelic just laying there on his back, breathing lightly and softly, and his face so...cherubic, it was almost scary at how spellbinding this was.

I wanted to climb in there and snuggle up to him! I had to get outta here!

Pursing my lips, and closing my eyes to shut out the most wonderful scene I had ever laid eyes on, I turned away and started to tiptoe every-so-cautiously back to his ajar door...when-

"Jade?"

I froze in my tracks... _Oh crap!_...


	14. Awkwardness

**Short, but sweet chapter. Enjoy! Sorry about the cruel and heartless delay. XP**

**Also - I'm writing Beckett's P.O.V. in 3rd person narration from now on.**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 14 - Awkwardness

_You are BUSTED! You are SO BUSTED! _An evil, cackling voice crowed in my head as I slowly turned around to see him sitting up, with the bed drape pulled aside, wide awake.

He'd been faking all this time? How could he? Why are men like this? What the hell am I doing in his room, putting myself at risk for losing my-_Don't you even think about it, Jade! That will not happen, because-_

"Miss Donnelson?" he frowned, looking puzzled. _Yeah right. Suuuuuuure he's puzzled._

"-Um..." my voice cracked a bit from my throat drying up with shock. "I was...check..." _No! That doesn't sound right! Start again! _"...I wanted to say goodnight - no -" I placed my hands over my face, feeling the heat of embarrassment against my palms.

"I beg your pardon?" he sounded like he didn't believe me. Maybe he was asleep, after all. "Why would you come into my room in the middle of the night to say good-night to me?" He slowly got out of bed, and lit his candle with his tinderbox. (Yes, I just recently found out that 18th century people didn't use matches, because they weren't invented yet. Stacey thought I was crazy.) The flickering candlelight dancing off his face sort of..._AHH! No horniness must occur at this time! Think! Think! Think!_

"I'm sorry," I nervously chuckled, backing against the door. "I think I was sleepwalking."

He smiled at me as he approached me. I felt this tingling sensation going up my spine from this new feeling I was having in this peculiar situation.

"I'm afraid I do not believe you, Miss Donnelson," he answered, stopping a safe distance away from me. My heart wanted to stop cold. What am I gonna do? Should I have taken Linda's advice? This is going down, and I know it!

A tense moment passed, when he heaved a sigh, pulling his beautiful blue-green eyes from mine, seeming a little annoyed. _God, he's having the same feelings, too! What the heck did I just do, here?_

"If you have any...inappropriate intentions towards me..." he bored his eyes back into mine, but this time, it was a hard glare. "...you're wrong. I wish only for a proper business relationship with you, Miss Donnelson, for both our sakes. Please return to your room at once."

He stepped around me, opened the door, and stepped aside to let me through. "Good night."

I was relieved, and I was also disappointed. Heck, I've got the hots for this guy! But I guess it'll go away, or it'll have to wait until later...

"Good-night, Lord Beckett," I replied. Saying his title and last name tasted just as good if I had ever said his...interesting first name - Cutler. Cutler Beckett. Weird.

"Please go," he demanded rather firmly.

Okay, now I'm hurt. I glanced at him one more time before I stepped out of his room, sorry for even thinking for going in there in the first place. The door nearly bumped me out as he quickly shut it behind me, and, I swear I heard him turn the lock.

I headed back into my 'new' room, and plopped down onto the bed, sighing deeply. I screwed up big time. No - not that - I mean by going into his room tonight. I wished I hadn't gone in there. Dang, I wished I've never left this bed I was sleeping in!

Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I thought about how he looked tonight when he lit the candle. His hair was short, curly and light golden brown. Oh, he was...beautiful. I wanted to stroke his lovely bestubbled face and kiss his soft curved lips...okay, let me dream this. I want to dream about him for the rest of my life.

And eventually...my dream will come true!

---

**Lord Beckett's P.O.V.**

The woman puzzled him. Why was she in his room, peering at him while he was half asleep in his bed?

Cutler dropped his key in the drawer of his nightstand, blew out his candle, and crawled unto his warm bed. Closing his eyes, he managed to relax himself enough to recollect what had just happened.

Miss Donnelson was in his room. Was she planning to rob him? Bed him? Checking to see if her absurd friends had unlocked that mirror?

_Bloody hell, I can't go on any longer without a straight answer from her! _He mentally ranted, staring up at the ceiling of his canopy. _Anyhow, I must not waste another second thinking of this rather odd incident. She must be questioned tomorrow before she goes back to her place. _

Unfortunately, he doesn't have a clue of what tomorrow holds.


	15. Meeting Governor Swann

**I'm not sure how many days passed from when Mercer arrested Governor Swann, to when he was brought in, wigless, to Beckett's Office. I'm saying about...3 or 4 days.**

**Sorry for the delay. College, a truckload of homework, and a 2 year old really doesn't give me the time I need for a proper update! -Rolls Eyes-**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 15 - Meeting Governor Swann.

I peeled my heavy eyelids open to see the 'ceiling' of my canopy bed. So it's true...I _did_ stay the night at Lord Cutler's place! Awesome! But, now what?

I slowly slid out of bed, and stretched the kinks out of my body, resulting with a big _pop!_ in the center of my back. Today, I hope those two idiotic girls have unlocked my mirror so that I could go back to last night in my house again!

Just then - there was a light knocking at my door, with Beckett's voice on the other side of it. "Miss Donnelson? Are you decent?"

My mind flew back to last night, when I decided to go into his room to make sure he was asleep. Is he still mad at me about that? As this tried to sort itself out in my mind, I quickly scurried around in the room, trying to find a robe to cover myself with.

"Just a minute!" I called back. "I just need to find a..." But the door opened anyway, right in time as I pulled the robe over my shoulder, and tied it at the front. In came Beckett with two servant girls, who bustled around him to open the drapes of the window, allowing the sunlight to spill in so that I could see Beckett, fully dressed.

"I would like you to join me in my office within the hour," he stated stiffly, unsmiling, ambling slowly towards the window, hands behind his back, not even bothering to look in my direction. "A certain gentleman will be brought in, and I would like for you to be a witness on my account."

"Okay..." I carefully answered him, remembering last night when he requested me to be back in the morning. I wonder what all this was for, anyway? I opened my mouth to ask him who this 'gentleman' was, but I decided that I was going to find out for myself.

Beckett quickly turned around and walked right up to me, just inches from my face. My heart stopped, because he was...glaring at me.

"Jade, I demand an answer," he demanded in a low voice. "What were you doing in my room last night."

I could see one of the maids turn in our direction, catching some of what he said, even though he kept his voice down. I shifted my eyes back into his, feeling hotness in my face.

"I...don't know," I stammered. A frown creased his brow. From the closeness and the strong daylight, I could see a little dit in the middle of his forehead. I wonder where he got that from?

"Apparently, you do," he answered coldly. I bit my lip. There was no way I was going to talk myself out of this one.

"I was..." _Gargh_! _I am so embarrassed right now! I wanna die! _"I was...thinking that...that y- _someone_ was coming to my room...and I couldn't sleep, so I just wanted to make sure you were asleep so that I wouldn't be so paranoid! I'm sorry! I only reversed the whole thing! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

I was staring into his eyes the whole time as I spoke, so that I could make sure he knew I was telling the truth, which I was, obviously. I watched as he looked me up and down, took a deep breath, and turned to leave.

"You're forgiven, Miss Donnelson," he quickly stated as he stepped out and shut the door. My heart dropped to my feet. How was I to earn his trust again?

_Get down to the office, sit pretty, and he'll be nicer to you again. _My thoughts answered. Okay...good idea.

---

I was dressed in the dress I wore last night, ironed by the maids, with my hair up in a stylish bun, with a few curled strands hanging down. Yep, he'll forgive me, just so that I would let him...NO, NO, NO, THAT WILL NOT HAPPEN! MUST TURN OFF THAT PART OF MY MIND RIGHT NOW!

When I entered the office, the painter was back, fixing the ship I smeared and transferred to Beckett's jacket. With one look at me, he put his back to me, and guarded the ship as I walked past him. He shot me a disdainful glare.

"Chill. I'm not going to drink again," I mumbled to him as I turned towards Beckett, who had his back to me as well, playing around with a sword.

My mind began to wander as I seated myself as prettily as I could on a stool in the corner of the room, by a window. He looks so sexy with a sword...I could just see myself with him and that sword in the bedroo...TURN IT OFF, JADE!!

"There is something to knowing the exact shape of the world..." Beckett spoke, holding the sword in the air, and then pointing it at the man in a menacing way. "...and your place in it. Don't you agree?"

Was he talking to me? I opened my mouth to answer him, when an older gentleman, the one Beckett mentioned, was brought in by two guards. Upon hearing clinking chains, my eyes focused onto the man's wrists - they were shackled!

"I assure you..." the gentleman spoke in a kindly voice, holding up his shackled wrists. " ...these are not necessary."

I was shocked. An _old_ man in _shackles_? Why would Beckett do this to someone?

"I had brought you here because I thought you'd be interested in the whereabouts of your daughter," Beckett answered.

Daughter? I was puzzled for a moment, when I nearly gasped when I made the connection - Elizabeth Swann! This man is Elizabeth Swann's father!

Mr. Swann's (A/N: Yes, I know he's Governor. Jade doesn't know, for the time being.) eyes lit up at the mentioning of Elizabeth. "You have news of her?" he gasped.

Mr. Mercer was looking through a telescope for some weird reason, since it was broad daylight. Something to do, I guess? Anyways, he answered him.

"Most recently seen in the island of Tortuga. Left in the company of the known pirate, Jack Sparrow, and other fugitives from justice."

Fugitives? Tortuga? What's going on here? I was as confused as I was when Linda, Stacey and I were listening to Elizabeth when she confronted Beckett about the letters of marque.

"Justice? Hardly," Mr. Swann sneered under his breath. His eyes fell upon me, and a suspicious look crossed his face. He must know that this was all news to me.

"Including the previous owner of this sword," Beckett added to Mercer's answer as he sheathed the sword, and placed it back into its case. I found myself looking away from Mr. Swann, and down at the floor. He thinks I'm Beckett's...never mind.

"I believe," Beckett went on. "Our ships have been dispatched to the hunt, sir, and justice will be dealt by cannonade and cutlass and all manner of remorseless pieces of metal. I personally find it distasteful to even contemplate the horror facing all those on board."

What the _hell_ was he talking about?

"What do you want from me?" Mr. Swann asked, sounding defeated.

"Your authority as Governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company," Beckett answered him, and me. I was appalled. Beckett was _using_ the _Governor_? He was _using_ an old man, whom he had put in _shackles_?

Governor Swann scoffed lightly. "To _you_, you mean."

Beckett walked up to him as my mind raced from this awakening of horror I was feeling. I need to do something! I need to stop him for being a total, complete prick! I regretted at even _thinking_ lustfully about him! He was a..._bastard_.

"Shall I remove these shackles?" Beckett asked the Governor, a sinister tone in his voice.

I've had it! Jumping to my feet, I stormed over to them, shooting my mouth off. I was obviously pissed, starting now.

"Wait just one minute, _mister_! I'm _not_ going to let you do this! I'm _not_ going to let you _use_ someone!" I thrust myself in between Beckett and the Governor, glaring at Beckett. "What's _wrong_ with you?"

Beckett glared at me, as if he was telling me that I just blew earning his trust again; but this time, I didn't give a damn. "Each man has a price he will willingly accept," Beckett said to me. "Even for what he hoped never to sell."

"Sell?" I couldn't believe my ears. "_Sell_?! What the heck to do you mean by _sell_?"

Beckett turned to Mr. Mercer. "I need a moment with Miss Donnelson. Would you remove this man's shackles?"

As Mr. Mercer moved to fulfill his order, Beckett grabbed my by the arm, and nearly dragged me out of the office. Once out of earshot, he looked as he were about to hit me, so I managed to stop him.

"I was six years in the soccer league, so if you hit me, I'll kick your shins in!" I hissed at him.

Beckett pushed me against the wall by the door, and spoke to me just inches from my face. "That man's daughter is involved with _piracy_, Miss Donnelson! You have no right whatsoever to challenge my doings!"

"There's no good enough justification for what you just did!" I spat back. "You're _wrong_!"

"No, I am not," he spoke calmly, which was creepy, because he was shaking with fury as his hands were pinned against my shoulders. "You are wrong for choosing the side of Miss Swann's father."

"Who happens to be, for your information, the _freaking_ _Governor_ of...of..." I was stuck.. Where was I geographically, anyways?

"Jamaica," Beckett finished flatly. "He also happens to be in the wrong for aiding his daughter's escape from prison."

"Hey, I don't blame him!" I nearly shouted back at him. "That place is hell! I spent two days in there with my friends!"

"Keep your voice down!" he hissed.

"No!" I pushed him off of me, and against the wall behind him, so that _I_ was in the position of power! "You listen here, Mister Power-Hungry! There are alternatives to whatever you need to do whatever you need to do relating to so-called 'fugitives of justice'. So, as long as you want me to stay here and share information about the future of this company - don't chain up old men, and use them! That is _intolerable_!"

At first, Beckett's face was placid, then it scrunched up in anger, his blue-green eyes blazed, and he shoved me off of him, nearly knocking me down.

"_You_ are _not_ my _mother_!" he snarled at me. "And I will do with Governor Swann what I please, and that goes for you, as well! Do _not_ cross me!"

With that, he straightened his vest, and opened the door to his office, stepped in, and slammed behind him, leaving me alone in the hall. After a moment of calming myself down, I turned, and stomped back down the hall, towards his room.

I'm sure that mirror had been unlocked by now! I _have_ to tell Linda and Stacey about _this_!

* * *

**A certain someone makes a re-appearance in the next chapter; "Hostage!" Stay tuned!**


	16. Hostage! Part 1

**From now on, I'm going to divide each chapter into three sections - Jade's POV (1st person), Beckett's POV (3rd person) and the 'reappearing character's' POV (1st person, like Jade's) I'll label each section so as not to confuse you faithful readers, and mostly because I'll have 2 people in 1st person narration (between Jade and the 'returning character')**

**I hope you understand what I'm doing. Enjoy!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 16 - Hostage! Part 1

**Beckett's POV:**

The girl was impossible! How could she show such little respect towards him, after all he has done for her?

Tearing his eyes away from the retreating figure of Jade Donnelson, Beckett straightened his waistcoat, and gingerly stepped back inside his office, knowing well that Mr. Mercer and Governor Swann had overheard the entire conversation. How utterly embarrassing!

Taking a deep breath, Beckett managed to address the two dumbfounded men staring back at him.

"My apologies," he quickly stated. "I simply needed to put Miss Donnelson in her place."

_Unsuccessfully. _He wryly thought, brushing his hand across the top of the sword's case as he walked by. Then he stopped, and faced Governor Swann and Mr. Mercer.

"You're dismissed, Governor," he turned to Mr. Mercer. "Mr. Mercer, please return to him his wig."

Governor was glaring Beckett as he was rubbing his wrists, when Lieutenant Groves burst in behind him. He glanced about in the room, when an irritated and puzzled Beckett addressed him.

"Is there anything you need, Lieutenant?" he sharply demanded.

"Yes," Groves panted. "Where is...is...you know...that girl..."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Beckett emitted a sigh. "Yes, she's on her way back. You will probably find her in the hallway."

"Thank you sir," Groves replied as he hurried across the room, and out the door.

---

**Jade's POV - **

Nearing the stairs ahead, I was hopping pissed. What's the matter with me? Why did I like him so much? Why hadn't I figured out how much of a jerk he was? Why had he-

"Miss!" a man's voice shouted behind me, stopping me in my tracks.

_If that's him, I'm so gonna..._much to my surprise, my thoughts came to a halt at the sight of Linda's Knight-In-Shining-Armor come running towards me. Panting, he came to a halt, a managed to speak.

"Miss, I believe I have something of your friends'," he reached into his pocket, and pulled out Linda's missing necklace! "I found it this morning, when I fetched Governor Swann from his cell. Does this belong to the young lady you know?"

I carefully took the necklace from his hands before I answered him.

"Her name's Linda...Linda Buckley," I managed to reply with a smile.

Groves's face lit up like a Christmas Tree when he learned of her first and last name.

"Will she be arriving again?" he hopefully inquired, searching my face with his kindly brown eyes.

"I hope so. I'll tell her you want to see her again," was my answer...when a realization struck me. "Are you talking about the slender girl, with the chestnut colored hair?"

A confused frown crossed his face... "No...I was talking of the other girl...the one with the long curly hair. She captivated me."

I felt like a twelve ton load of bricks just landed on me. He likes _Stacey?!_

"B-but you seemed so friendly to Linda!" I argued. If I broke this news to Linda, she'll die! "You treat Stacey like she didn't exist!"

His eyes drifted down to the floor. "You see Miss...her friend showed an interest in me, and I simply was being polite to her, but a true gentleman never reveals his feelings towards someone until the opportune moment."

Allowing this to sink in for a moment, I finally figured out that there was no way for him and Linda to work out, since Linda was engaged to be married. Stacey was single, and Linda's cousin, so he would be close enough to her.

"It's okay," I finally broke the silence, causing Groves to look up at me. "She'll understand."

He politely nodded. "Thank you, Miss."

"Call me Jade," I insisted. "I communicate better on a first-name basis."

Groves smiled kindly, and bowed and kissed my hand. "I'm Theodore Groves, Miss Jade."

I rolled my eyes. "Pleased to meet you, Theodore."

---

Even in the total darkness of Lord Cutler Beckett's closet, I knew the mirror was unlocked. I pushed against the wall, and it swung open, the light in my room spilling in. Stacey jumped back, letting out a little shriek of surprise.

"It was only locked for a second, I swear!" Stacey asserted.

"Did you just wash off your makeup?" Linda blurted out.

Just standing there at the mirror's entrance, I remained silent, glancing back and forth between the two girls. As freaky as it sounds, I see them in a whole different light, now. Linda likes Theodore Groves, and Theodore likes Stacey. What will Linda do? What will Stacey do?

_Opportune moment. _Theodore's words echoed inside my head. _Don't say anything until the opportune moment. Now is not the time._

Sighing, I stepped out of the closet, and shut the mirror, locking it closed.

"Seesh, this Chronicles of Narnia time thing, like, sure messes things up, doesn't it?" Stacey sighed. "How did it go?"

"Great," I answered with a grin. "I had dinner with him, and we talked about the future, and then...that was it." No need for me to tell them I had spent the night there, or about Governor's Swann's ordeal, or my fight with Beckett, or Theodore's secret love for Stacey. They will never find out about all that...or will they?

Yawning, I began to undo the dress I was wearing. "Help me out of this," I told Linda. "I'm tired as heck."

"Did you do something with him?" Linda gasped. I know full-well where her dirty mind is going at the moment!

"No, I did _not_!" I snapped back at her, causing her to jump in surprise. Just then - I remembered her necklace...oh no...Groves... I reached into my pocket, and pulled out the necklace. Linda gasped in shock at the sight of it, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Oh my God!" she screeched in delight, carefully grabbing it away from me. "Where'd you find it?"

_Think! Think! _"Beckett gave it to me," I lied quickly. "He thought it was mine, but I told him it was yours." When I finished my fib, I quickly gulped upon noticing how disappointed Linda was.

"Oh...thanks Jade," she smiled weakly. Then she put the necklace on, and fastened the clasp.

I decided to forget the guilt I was feeling, and turned my attention towards Stacey, who was perched atop my bed, studying my month-old _Teen Vogue _magazine.

_This is not going to go off well. These two fight enough already! Why add to it with Groves? _Figuring they'd never find out, I kept it in...

---

**"Mystery Character"'s POV - (**_1st person narration, like Jade's. Do NOT confuse the two!!_

I remember seeing fear in her her eyes...more of shock rather than fear, but she was alerted to my rather...obsessive personality. Unfortunately, when she sees me again, she will watch my every move, for she does not trust me any longer.

She will think this will be the last time she will ever see me, and that, I think, is very good. She will forget about me, and relax enough not to notice her surroundings. How long should I wait? A few days? A few weeks? Perhaps a month?

It will be as long as it takes until I make my reappearance, and this time...I will take no chances.

---

**Jade's POV - **

Monday rolled around, and I haven't even gone near that stupid mirror. I'm angry with Beckett, and not to mention, very disappointed in him. I don't hate him, though, but I don't think he'll be very nice to me from now on.

It was dark out when left work with Linda and Stacey. We chatted for a while, and then Linda remembered that she was to be getting a phone call early in the morning from in 'invisible' fiancé, so they had to get home early.

I unlocked my stupid car, and sat down inside, shutting the door, and sticking the key in the ignition. Before I ever start up this car, I had to give myself a mental pep talk about fear of driving and vehicles.

_Okay, Jade. _I thought to myself. _You can do this. You've been able to keep yourself alive for three years now, and will continue to do so! Just buckle up, turn the key, and put the car in 'drive', and away you g- _

My thoughts were cut off all of a sudden, when the door on the passenger side came open, and someone very familiar-looking got in and sat down, shut the door, looked right at me with a pair of piercing steel-gray eyes, and pulled out a handgun with a silencer fixed onto the end of it, and aimed it right at my head. I swore the trigger was about to be pulled!

But I froze completely. I so wanted to scream, but I couldn't, because my chest was so tight from fear. My heart felt like it stopped, I couldn't breathe... WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME???!!! I remembered when Beckett aimed his little gun at me when I came into his room, I was just a little unnerved, but this...I'm terrified!

The only sound I could barely utter above a whisper in my state of petrification is in the form of this crazy gunslinging person's name...

"...Adrian?..."

* * *

**I bet that was the ultimate surprise of surprises!! Adrian Fraser is going to be another 'main character' but not as 'main' as Jade is. You know what I mean?**

**Anyways, I'm posting a poll right now of sorts related to this story, so stay tuned! **

**And about the title of this chapter, it only 'titled' just the last little section of this chapter, so it's kinda weird. heehee.**


	17. Hostage! Part 2

**My deepest apologies for not posting in months!! As you all know, college really gets in the way of such things. Thanks for your wonderful patience!**

**I do not own, I repeat - I do not own 'Pirates of the Caribbean 1,2 or 3. I do not own Lord Beckett, Lieutenant Groves, Mr. Mercer, Governor Swann or his darling daughter. I DO own Jade, Linda, Stacey and evil Adrian!**

**Oh-and I posted my Poll!! Check it out and vote!**

**--**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 17 - Hostage! Part 2

**Jade's POV - **

This was completely and totally...unfathomable! Why was Adrian Fraser in my car, pointing a silenced handgun at me? What was his point? Why was he doing this?

Pressing my back against the door of the car, I managed to make eye contact with him as I slipped my hand very slowly behind me to feel around for the handle to the door. Drat! I can't find it! Adrian discovered what I was doing, and cocked the gun.

"Move away from the door," he ordered in the rich, makes-me-feel-like-putty English accent of his. "Now!"

Well, common sense tells me to do what he says, or he'll shoot me, so I'd better move away from the door so he _won't_ shoot me. Slowly, I leaned away from the door, keeping my eyes on him the whole time.

"Start the vehicle, and drive home," he continued.

Drive home? Why does he want me to drive him to my house?

"Why?" slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. My heart skipped a beat - _oh crap!_

"Just _do it_!" he barked.

_If you act as scared as you are Jade, you're gonna get hurt. _I thought as I slowly buckled up, focusing on the steering wheel in front of me, so Adrian cannot see me thinking._ It will freak him out if you act calm...act like Beckett. Yes! Act like Beckett in the most tense situations - like when Elizabeth came in with her gun and deman-_

"Why are you taking such a bloody long time? Start the car!" he was nearly shouting at me now.

"Yes, yes! I know!" I said back, almost as loudly. "It's kind of hard to do anything with a dang gun in my face, you know."

"Get used to it," was his cold reply. I felt the end of the gun just inches away from my ear. I saw, in front of me, a couple of kids crossing the street a few feet away from the car. Turning to Adrian, I managed to talk in the calmest tone possible.

"You'd better lower your gun, Adrian. Someone could see it."

He glared at me for a minute when he knew I was right. Then he lowered his gun until it was at the level of my leg.

"And buckle up. I do _not_ drive well at night," I added, keeping my face completely straight.

I swore I saw his eyes widen from that new info. He kept his gun trained on me the entire time as he managed to loop his arm through the belt, and buckle it up.

"Thank you," I nodded politely, as I turned and buckled up myself, and started up the car. Just then, an evil thought crossed my mind as my eyes drifted towards my side-view mirror...I put the car in 'reverse', and backed up suddenly, knocking over a couple of metal trash cans that I saw behind me.

"Dammit, woman! What the _hell_ do you think you are _doing_?!" Adrian screamed, bracing his feet up on the dashboard.

"Sorry," I calmly replied, halting the car. "I always do that. Last time, there was a person behind me. I'm glad no one saw it."

"Just...just drive home..._please_!" Adrian shook his gun at me like an old lady shaking her cane. "And I _might_ not _kill_ you!"

"You mean _I_ might not kill _us_!" I replied, rolling my eyes, pulling out of the parking lot, and down the street, resisting the urge to snicker.

I headed down the street to the first set of two stoplights I always go through on the way here and back every day. It turned yellow, and then red. I could tell that Adrian was getting anxious.

"Relax. It's a long way home, so get ready," I nonchalantly stated, turning towards him. "And you don't need the gun! Why didn't you just walk up to me and say, 'Hey, why don't we grab a bite to eat, and head out to your place?'. I mean, I can't fight you, you know. There's no reason for you be..."

"It's _green_," he cut in, narrowing his eyes at me.

"What?" I was confused, until he nodded his head toward the stoplight. _Oh_! Quickly, I stamped on the gas, causing the car to peel forward.

"Good God!" he gasped, bracing himself again.

"Sorry," I replied, giggling inwardly. This was actually fun! My nerves have finally evened out, because I know Adrian knows better than to shoot me.

--

**Adrian's POV - **

Does she really not know how to drive, or was she just playing with my head? I was certain it was the latter, because she was able to stop so swiftly and keep good control of her vehicle. _Blasted_ girl!

As I sat there, a gun to her side, I noticed how placid she became. She was just sitting there, keeping her eyes on the road, and driving, as if I wasn't even sitting here at all. How does she _do_ that?

Shifting in my seat, I managed to become comfortable again, since there was a long stretch of road ahead of us. At least, that is what I know, since it is dark outside, and we can't see quite far with headlights.

"Butt itches?" she piped up. I rolled my eyes. Why can't I just shoot her and be done with it? Because I can't, that's why. I need her at the moment. No, not like _that_!

"No," I replied as quickly as I could, switching my gun from one hand to the other, so that my arm is laying across my lap and resting as I held the gun towards her.

"Grouch," I head her mutter under her breath. This is going to be a long night.

--

**Beckett's POV - **

Something wasn't right in the atmosphere. I could feel it as I paced back and forth in my office, trying to place a finger on the strange feeling I had. Something was wrong; terribly wrong. But what is it, exactly?

I stepped out onto the balcony, and observed the setting sun in the distance as I continued to think. Usually, whenever I had this sort of uneasiness, I found later that I would be right.

_Is it Miss Donnelson? _I wondered, turning away from the balcony, and ambling back into the office. _That could be it. I can feel her hate for me, as well as her disappointment. Why should I care? She will return, and beg me for my forgiveness. _

_...Won't she?_

--

**Jade's POV - **

I finally reached home, and Adrian was nearly falling asleep. Putting the car in 'park', I shut it off, and that is what woke him up.

"All right," he ordered, removing his seat belt. "Get out of the car."

"Duh!" I rolled my eyes, unbuckling my belt. I grabbed my purse, and got out at the same time as Adrian did. He looked around, until his eyes rested on the shed.

"I do _not_ live in that," was my answer to his silent question. "Let's go. We have to hike, now."

"Bloody hell," I head him grumble behind me as I headed towards the white hand gate. I bet he's going to regret this for the rest of his life after this!

We headed through the metal hand gate, and up the pitch dark hiking trail. I could hear Adrian stumbling and tripping, mumbling curses and other stuff behind me the whole walk to the house.

Mom wasn't home, since she works late on Mondays at the bakery, so she won't be freaking out about the handsome mad Englishman with the gun which is digging into my back the whole way.

Once inside, I went straight up the stairs, with Adrian right behind me. We reached the top of the stairs, made a right turn around the railing, and into my open bedroom door.

The minute he saw the mirror, he jumped around me, and leaped right up to it. He observed the ornamental carvings on the frame, and the insignia at the top of the frame.

"Collect keys you say? What an original lie!" he turned towards me. "Where's the key?"

It was in its box on the nightstand right within my reach, so I grabbed it up, and went over to him. He took it from my hands, opened it, and took out the key, shoving the box back into my hands. As he was fitting the key into the lock, I carefully sat the box down on the bench at the foot of my bed.

"I suppose you've already used this," he stated. "Haven't you?"

"Yeah, sure," I answered with a shrug. "So?"

He gave me a menacing look, and turned the key until the lock _click_ed open. He grasped the door, and pulled it open, revealing Lord Beckett's closet on the other side of it. Adrian's eyes widened with total surprise. He leaned around the mirror's frame to see if he wasn't being fooled. Nope, he was right. Then he reached in, and touched one of his coats.

"It's _true_!" he gasped to himself. "The legend was _true_!"

"Legend...?" I didn't know if I heard that right. I'm not the only one other than Linda and Stacey who knew about this? Just then Adrian snapped out of his awe, and grabbed me roughly by the arm, and pulled me close so that he could hiss into my ear: "So you've gone and made friends, hm? I wonder whom you've met so far?"

"Oh, cram it up that cute little ass of yours!" I hissed back. I felt him tense up with anger. Was he going to shoot me or whack me? No, because he shoved me forward until my shins hit the bottom edge of the mirror, and I fell forward into Beckett's closet floor.

"Nice move, jackass," I grumbled, as I crawled into the closet on all fours before getting onto my feet.

"What did you just say?" I heard him growl from behind me, jabbing the handgun into my back.

"Nothing," I muttered back. Adrian hoisted himself up into the closet, grabbed me up by the arm again, and pulled me through the closet until me met the door into Beckett's room. I fumbled around until I made contact with the doorknob, and opened the door. I could feel Adrian stiffen next to me at the sight of Beckett's room in the glowing golden light of dusk.

"I see you've done more than just made friends with him, haven't you?" he sneered. I resisted the urge to body-slam him against the door-jamb, and managed to answer him in a civil tone of voice.

"Even if I have, what business is it of yours?" I replied.

It was silent for a moment...then Adrian pushed me forward in the direction of the door out to the hallway. "Let's go find him, shall we?" Adrian announced as we went out into the hallway. Just then, a servant woman came out of a bedroom she was cleaning, and stopped in her tracks at the sight of us.

"Hey, do you know where Lord Beckett is?" I asked her, coming to a stop, causing Adrian's gun to painfully dig into the middle of my back.

"Yes, he's downstairs in his office," she quickly replied before ducking past us, while Adrian watched her the whole way. When she was out of sight, Adrian pulled me close to his face, and hissed angrily;

"_Lord Beckett_?! You've gone and befriended _Lord Beckett_?!"

"Yeah, so?" I don't get this guy. Why is he so upset that I've met Lord Beckett, and he Adrian has absolutely nothing personal to do with me, whatsoever!? As I was being marched down the hall, I had a feeling that this was not going to go off well once we meet Beckett.

--

**Beckett's POV-**

Are those footsteps I hear coming towards my office? Did I just hear Miss Donnelson's voice? I knew something was wrong pertaining to her! With as much swiftness I could manage, I rose from my chair, stepped around my desk and across the room, and hurriedly walked out into the hallway right into the wrong end of a pistol held by a familiar-looking young man with Miss Donnelson in his grip.

"I want those documents, Lord Beckett!" the young Englishman snarled, his cold gray eyes blazing as he pointed the barrel of his pistol towards Miss Donnelson's temple. She gasped, and shut her eyes tightly as if awaiting this madman to pull the trigger that very moment.

My heart sank and began to thump rather hard against my ribs. I managed to mask my fear, just as I had done when I encountered Miss Swann that night. Except, in this situation, this is not an angry bride-to-be, but a strong and enraged man holding prisoner someone of great value to me.

Then he spoke again, in a lower tone of voice... "Or she _dies_!"


	18. Turning Point

**I finally found someone who looks like Adrian!! The guy who played Prince Caspian in the Prince Caspian movie that just came out – except that Adrian has light gray eyes. Hot, huh?**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 18 – Turning Point

"Who are you?" Beckett demanded, glaring at Adrian.

Adrian tightened his grip around my neck, pressing the barrel of his handgun harder against my temple. Seesh, he's killing me now just by shoving his gun into my brain!

"My name is Adrian Fraser..." _You killed my father. Prepare to die, _I shoved the random thought out of my head from 'Star Wars' as I listened to Adrian finish his sentence. "...Perhaps you have heard the name before."

Beckett raised his eyebrows. "I have. Fraser is the surname of my cousin."

"-And my ancestor!" Adrian barked. "My great-great-great-great-great grandfather! He was supposed to become lord when his father died – and he passed his position to _you_!"

_Oh, so _this_ is what his big problem is! _I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. What is going to happen to me next? Get kidnapped by terrorists??

Beckett began to slowly approach us, glaring at Adrian, and began to speak; "Because I am his nephew, and not an irresponsible fool or a drunken philanderer like my cousin was! My family had more money, and more influence with the king, and my uncle knew I was able to live up to my name far more so than George Fraser!"

Beckett was now at arm's length from Adrian, who was itching to pull the trigger to kill me off.

"I want the documents that prove that you've tarnished my family name," Adrian said, his voice shaking with anger. "That is all I want. If you do not give them to me – I will kill the girl!"

"So be it," Beckett quickly answered after some thought, looking at me, with no emotion in his eyes at all.

"What?!" I shrieked, trying to wriggle away from Adrian, who kept me firmly in place, the gun still against my head. Adrian looked at me for a moment before looking back at Beckett.

"What a pity. I thought you would care..." Adrian sneered.

Suddenly, I felt Adrian pulled the gun away from my head, and aim it right at Beckett! Without thinking, I grabbed his arm and pushed it upward by the time he pulled the trigger, the shot echoing throughout the hallway.

I guess I must be stronger than I thought I was, because I managed to knock him down onto the floor so hard that the gun was knocked out of his hand when it hit the floor. Straddling him, I lost my nerve, and began pummeling him against the ribs with my fists.

**Beckett's POV - **

I couldn't move. An attempt on my life was thwarted by someone who was looking to _me_ to rescue _her_. How has this reversed itself? Miss Donnelson saved my life!

Upon hearing bootfalls behind me, I felt relieved that my guards heard the shot. Blinking a few times, I realized that Jade was sitting atop the madman, beating him with her fists, calling him a 'filthy son-of-a-bitch!' at the top of her lungs.

Mercer arrived on time to pull her off of him for the guards to restrain him.

"That man tried to kill me," I managed to say. "The weapon is laying on the floor beneath the hall table."

Adrian, I supposed was his name, was thrashing about as his hands were shackled behind his back. He glared at me once again with those strange cold gray eyes. And then be began screaming at me as he was hauled down the hallway to the door.

"I wanted to bring honor to my family name! No one even knows who I am! If your cousin became lord, it would've been passed down to me! You had no heirs, and no family! I've researched you – you will die within a year! Mark my works! You will die!"

I die within a year? He researched me?

I turned to Miss Donnelson, who was listening to his rant with me. She looked at me looking at her, and seemed appalled.

"Hey, man, don't be looking me!" she stated. I was a bit confused at her response.

"What do you mean, Miss Donnelson?" I inquired.

"I'm not going to help you produce an heir!" she quickly answered, raising a brow with disgust.

I felt warmth in my face at the thought of her and I together... I quickly looked back down the hall away from her, as I clarified my intentions.

"I want to know how that man was able to research me, as he said he had done. He also mentioned rather strongly that I will die within a year. I want to know everything."

Satisfied with my answer, I turned back to her. She simply shrugged her shoulders, and nodded her head. "Sure. Maybe have some chocolate pudding while we're at it, huh?"

Chocolate pudding? This girl is bound to spoil me to death!

"Of course," I replied. "Would you mind if Lieutenant Groves and Mr. Mercer come along?"

"Of course they can come!" she exclaimed. "C'mon!"

* * *

**Sorry for the shorntess of this chapter! Another will come soon!**


	19. Of Breakups and Chocolate Pudding

**OMFG school is FINALLY OVER WITH FOR TWO WHOLE MONTHS!! Hooray! Now, everyone will be receiving much more frequent updates from today on! -_jumps around happily_-**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 19 – Of Breakups and Chocolate Pudding

Me, Beckett, Mercer, and Lieutenant Groves were all groping together (NOT each other – that would be wrong!) inside Beckett's pitch-black closet, grumbling muffled curse words every once in a while.

"I can't see why one man would have so much clothes!" I heard a voice grumble. I think it was Mercer's – because he has a funny Scottish accent.

"You keep a civil tongue in your unprepossessing face!" I heard Beckett snap back at him.

"I'm sorry, was just thinking aloud, milord," Mercer muttered back. Then after a moment, his voice piped up again. "By the way, what does that word 'unprepossessing' mean?"

"I've been called that once," I answered, remembering the comment all too well by some cruel queen bee in my high school. (Actually, _SHE_ didn't even know what it meant!). "I looked it up in the dictionary. It's best if you _didn't_ know what it means."

No answer. I guess it's because dictionaries weren't invented yet.

Finally, we reached the entrance of my room. I stepped in (out?) first, and headed towards my closet to put my work jacket away – when suddenly – THLUMP!! Turning around with surprise, I saw Beckett lying on the ground, with Mercer stepping out of the mirror and falling on top of him, with Lieutenant Groves exiting in the same manner. It was the most hilarious sight I've ever seen!

"Arrugh! Get off of me!" Beckett gasped. "Your breath stinks!"

"I can't – someone is laying on top of _me_!" Mercer grunted, trying to wriggle out from underneath Groves.

"It's me. She didn't tell me that we had to watch our step!" Groves answered, managing to roll off of Mercer and Beckett, and get up onto his feet.

Rolling my eyes, I resumed putting my work jacket away. Just then, my cellphone started ringing. Shutting my closet, I went over to answer my phone, which I left behind this morning during my rush to work. It was Linda. Flipping it open, I put it to my ear.

"Hey Linda, what's happening?" I said. I heard sniffles on the other side of the phone. Oh no! Linda was crying! Oh my God, what happened to her? I was worried and panicked when I repeated her name again, "Linda?"

"Hi, Jade," she finally answered, a very tearful tone in her voice. Something was obviously wrong! I hope to God she's not hurt!

"Linda, what's wrong?" I wanted to know, as I sat down on my bed, ignoring the three men behind me, peering at me like I went crazy or something.

"It's-(sniffles) it's my fiancé. He was cheating on me, he was drunk, and he told me all about it tonight," she explained. "He told me that the girl he was seeing was the one for him, and he broke up with me!"

I was shocked, sad, and furious. "Why would he do that to you? How long has he been seeing her?"

"A.. (sniffles) a few months. But you won't believe this one, Jade," she stopped and gulped before she continued. "She's pregnant – and _he's_ the father!"

--

I invited Linda over to my house. Once Beckett, Groves, and Mercer heard the story, they were as horrified as I was when I heard it from Linda. Poor Linda! How could that player do that to her? Because he's a player, that's why! I wanted to kick that asshole's butt, pardon my French.

Stacey couldn't come, because she was at another friend's house. So I decided to make a bunch of chocolate pudding for her to gorge on while she spilled her story and her tears. I wanted to be there for her, because I knew what it was like getting heartbroken by some stupid, worthless guy.

"You can't make pudding out of that!" Beckett scoffed, pointing disdainfully at my three boxes of

Jell-o brand instant chocolate pudding lying on the kitchen counter.

"Yes, I _can_!" I answered back in a strong tone of voice, a little annoyed at the moment. With Linda's situation on my mind, I was ready to lash out at anyone with all teeth and nails. "Now leave me alone!"

Beckett clammed right up, giving me a half-hearted glare with those blue-green eyes of his. "I'm sorry, Miss Donnelson," he quietly answered before turning away, and walking quietly over to the table, and quietly sitting down, and quietly turned to Mercer, and began to quietly mutter to him.

"Ever since she spoke to that thing that made the ringing noise, she's turned into a bloody-" he was interrupted by a knock at the front door.

Unfortunately, I was just tearing open the second box of pudding mix. "Theodore, could you get the door for me, please?"

"Theodore?" Beckett venomously repeated, glaring at me in a very jealous way. I just shrugged back.

"He told me to call him that. Get over it. It's not like we're in a relationship, or something. Whatever happened to 'business only'?" I flailed my arms theatrically, my voice raising.

Okay. I figured it out. I have PMS. I better go check my calender later tonight just to make sure.

--

(A/N: I couldn't resist - I wanted this scene to be in here without Jade's POV all the time!)

**Groves's POV - **

I reached the front door, opened it, and found the poor woman standing before me in a complete, sobbing mess. I couldn't recognize her at first - until I noticed the necklace around her neck that I had found in the prison cell.

She looked up at me, and was in a moment's shock...before she leapt forward and threw her arms around my neck, and shook with a fresh outburst of weeping. I didn't know whether just to comfort her...or to call for Miss Donnelson.

--

**Jade's POV**

I heard the door open and shut, and then I heard Linda crying. Quickly, I mixed the milk and pudding mix together with an egg-beater, and then I set in the middle of the table. Beckett didn't even look at it. He just sat here, his arms crossed, looking at me. I smiled at him.

"Now, watch this live up to the name, 'Instant Pudding', while I go see who's here, okay?" I rushed out of the room before Beckett could answer me.

I couldn't believe what I saw in front of me – Linda had her head buried in Theodore's chest, and crying her eyes out. Poor Theodore looked so..awkward.

"Hey, Linda," I said softly, putting my hand on her back. She looked at me, then looked slowly over to Groves, before she flushed with embarrassment, and quickly pulled away.

"I'm...I'm sorry, I just...I..." she stammered.

"It's all right, miss," Theodore replied very kindly, patting her on the back. "I understand."

Linda turned away, and I lead her to the dining room. But we both stopped at the sight of Becket and Mercer.

There they were, with spoons, pigging out on the chocolate pudding and oblivious to our return.


	20. The Escape

**Sorry for the wait. I've been sorting out wrong grades and school money – not to mention my growing addiction to Lord of the Rings. I have TWO fanfics planned for LOTR to be out soon!**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 20 – The Escape

**Adrian's POV - **

It's all her fault that I'm in here. Her and that little wretch of a man, in his little white wig, and all of his soldiers running about to his beck and call. Why didn't I just shoot the girl before I took a shot him? What's wrong with me?

Leaning my head back against the rough, cold stone wall of the prison hole I'm in, I thought long and hard of what I am to do. Any plans of escape in store for me?

Closing my eyes, I reminisced the time when my key was bought. With that sort of money in my pocket from her, opportunity called upon me for my chance to restore my family name – as royalty – the royalty that Lord Beckett had stolen from my ascendant during this time.

_Now that I'm here – now is my chance to make a change...and revenge...against him...against that girl!_

--

**Jade's POV - **

I would have to say – the pudding was delicious...of what was left of it, thanks to Beckett and Mercer. Linda leaned her head on a blushing Theodore's shoulder while she spilled her tragic story of her breakup with the player.

Personally, I hope Theodore reconsiders his affections for Stacey, and start liking Linda – she just loves him! Besides, the last thing Linda needs is another heartbreak in a row – who else is out there to fall in love with her, and stay that way?

Sighing deeply, and looking down into the bowl, I wondered if Beckett was bugged by all this stuff going on. He appeared to be interested and bored all at the same time, and Mercer was busily yapping away with Theodore.

Conversations were short and uninteresting, and becoming more so as the time ticked on...

Suddenly, I heard footsteps on the front porch. Beckett perked up at the new sound as well.

"What's that?" Mercer piped up.

Just then – I remembered. My mom's home!

"Guys!" I hissed. "Go upstairs, my mother's here!"

"I'd like to meet your mother, actually," Beckett replied, raising his eyebrows.

"No, you don't understand – she'd _freak_!!" I frantically hissed back.

--

**Adrian's POV - **

How interesting. The door of this wretched cell I'm in is just sitting on peg hinges. I could lift it off and be free! Thank goodness I'm strong enough...I quickly got up onto my feet, approached the door, and grasped the bars closest to the hinges and pulled upwards with all of my strength.

I could see the hinge closing towards the top of the peg, and I could feel myself acquiring a hernia from all the straining to free myself. With another intake of air, I jerked the door upwards, and the top hinge slipped off of the peg! The loud noise which followed caused me to flinch, but I wasted no time stepping through the gap, grabbing my gun in the process, and quickly making my way towards the stairs.

I was free!

--

It was quite light outside, due to the abundant amount of moonlight pouring over the city. I rushed into an alley, dodging a stray cat meowing its way along, and nearly dripped over a unconscious drunkard laying in my way.

Clothes. I needed a change of clothes – to blend in with area and century. Since my plaid shirt and denim pants were not going to work, I'm going to have to steal some.

There was a well-lit and rather noisy tavern further along the street, close to the docks. What luck! Perhaps there I could snatch myself some proper 18th century clothes.

So, in I went.

--

**Jade's POV -**

Linda and I had managed to get Mr. Mercer, Beckett, and Theodore back upstairs by the time the door opened. Mom's voice called up to us.

"Jade, who's car is that parked in the driveway?"

"It's Linda's," I called back.

"Hi, Mrs. Donnelson!" Linda called down, standing at the top of the stairs so my Mom could see her.

I looked back at the three men standing behind me. Beckett sighed deeply.

"Miss Donnelson," he whispered to me. "I don't see why you should hide us from your mother."

"I _told_ you," I hissed back. "She does _not_ like to have men in the house when she's not here!"

Beckett nodded slowly. "...I see..."

Linda began to herd us into my room. "Come on! I think she's coming up here!" she whispered frantically.

"Jade!" Mom's voice called up again. "Who's hat is this?"

I gasped quietly when I noticed the equally shocked Theodore Groves looking back at me. He left his hat downstairs on the dining table!

But Linda saved my life.

"It's mine! I brought it over to show Jade!" she called back as she dashed out of my room and galloped down the stairs.

Me, Beckett, Theodore and Mercer exhaled simultaneously with relief.

"Okay, it was really nice seeing you guys tonight," I said quietly to the three. I turned to Theodore. "Thank you for comforting Linda. She really needed it."

He bowed his head to me. "You are very welcome, Miss Donnelson."

_Why oh why doesn't he have a crush on Linda? Why does it have to be Stacey? He must change his mind about her! He has to! _

While thinking that, I went over to the mirror and pulled it open. At about the same time, Linda came puffing back upstairs with Theodore's hat. She went up to him, and placed it on his head with a huge smile on her face. I felt myself smile, too. She's happy now, thank goodness. But it will be a long time before she's over her cheating fiancé.

"Good-night," she said to him.

"Good-night to you, Miss..." he trailed off at forgetting her last name. Major boo-boo for him, because I saw some hurt in Linda's eyes.

"Buckley. My name is Linda Buckley," she smiled a little weakly with her reply.

"Miss Buckley. It was a pleasure meeting you again," he kissed the back of her hand, and I swore she was going to faint dead away from that kind of contact by her biggest crush yet!

I smiled over at Beckett, who just gave me his usual stoic facial expression. Gosh, what a person to have a thing for! I turned away from him, and bid everyone good night as they filed into the mirror. Beckett was the last one to enter, when he turned to me.

"I will be interrogating Mr. Fraser tomorrow morning at seven o'clock, and want you to be present. Understood?" he stated.

I was a little annoyed by his coldness towards me. Does he really think I like Theodore because I called him by his first name? We aren't even in a friend-only relationship, no less a romantic one!

"Yes, sir," I smiled back, with some sarcasm in my voice. "I'll be there."

"Good," he quickly replied before ducking back into his closet. Sighing, I shut the door behind him, and turned the key to lock it.

"What's his problem?" Linda scowled towards the mirror.

"Nothing," I groaned, flopping down onto my bed. "He's always like that to everyone."

"That's too bad," Linda said, flopping down next to me. "He seems like a nice guy."

I giggled. "Far from it!"

"By the way," Linda went on, turning towards me. "Who's Mr. Fraser?"

"Oh my gosh!" I sat up, remembering my hostage situation earlier tonight. "Remember that guy who gave me the package – the one we saw in Dairy Queen that night?"

Linda nodded.

"He jumped in my car tonight, pulled a gun on me, and made me drive him home to show him my mirror!" I blurted out.

Linda gasped and covered her mouth. "Didn't you call the cops?"

"I couldn't! But I didn't think he would hurt me, anyways," I continued. "But he knew my Mom wasn't home, so he made me take him in here, and take him in the mirror to Beckett. It turns out that he is related distantly to Beckett, and he wanted some kind of documents from him. He also threatened to kill me if he didn't hand them over – and then he tried to shoot Beckett – and I save his life!"

Just then – I realized just how careless and selfish Beckett was – I saved his life, and he treated me like crap!

Linda was just dumbfounded. "You went through more than I did tonight, Jade," she whispered. "I would've been so scared!"

"I _was_ scared," I argued. "I couldn't even _drive_ right!"

Linda shook her head. "I just hope Beckett will thank you for saving his life."

"He's doesn't care," I replied, looking down at my hands.

"Jade," Linda's voice was more stern. I looked up at her.

"He _owes_ you!"


	21. The Art of Betrayal

**Sorry for another wait. Lord of the Rings is getting to me. If any of you like LOTR and "The Patriot" (You know, the Revolutionary War movie with Mel Gibson and Jason Isaacs in it?) I've posted a LOTR and Patriot crossover fic under the "Patriot" section of this site. Feel free to check it out! It's called "Turn of the Tide".**

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 21 – The Art of Betrayal

**Adrian's POV - **

My luck has changed for the better.

I was elated when I discovered a very dark side to me that I've never known of its existence. Stealing. Lying. Murder.

Three blokes I've found in that tavern wore rather plain but clean clothes about my size, and I've managed to get a hold of their clothes, their money (which there was plenty of, since I needed the proper sort of currency for this time period), and whatever valuables I could find. But before I could obtain any of that, I became their 'friend', and we all became very drunk.

I could hold my liquor rather well, but these three I met didn't. I snuck into their rooms, strangled one, and shot the other two (with the muffler on my gun), and grabbed all that I could find afterwards.

Did I feel guilty for killing those men? Did I care whether they had wives and children to feed? Should I turn myself in for doing two of the most 'sinful' actions in this world, and get myself on the wrong end of a noose?

The answer I am about to tell you to those three questions, please hold your ears if you can't stand my extreme hatred and coldness to this world

No fucking way!

--

**Jade's POV - **

It was 7:15 in the morning, and Linda decided to spend the night. Since we both work at the same place, we understood when we had to rush, rush, rush.

I had to go first, because I needed to meet Beckett for questioning Adrian. Luckily, time doesn't pass when I go into the mirror, so I quickly changed into my clothes, and went right in as soon as Linda went into the bathroom.

With my penlight handy, I headed straight through the closet, and into the bedroom. The moment I arrived that bedroom of his – I heard raised voices of men downstairs. Bad News!

Quickly, I shut off my penlight, flew out the door, down the hall, down the stairs, down the big hall, and into Beckett's office.

Mr. Mercer, Lieutenant Groves, and Beckett stood, looking rather stirred up. They all turned and looked at me. Or must I say – GLARED at me!

"What?" I asked after a moment. "What happened?"

Beckett stepped towards me, taking very slow, deliberate steps until he was in front of me. He seemed a little pissed. Okay – a LOT pissed...for some reason I couldn't point out.

"Where is he?" he drawled.

"Who?" I asked back.

"You know perfectly well who," Beckett replied curtly. "That madman, the decedent of my good-for-nothing cousin, the man who tried to kill me – _that's_ who!" His voice was a few notches louder by the time he finished his sentence.

Still, I didn't get it. Why was he asking me this? Isn't he in...

"Wait a minute..." I replied, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, and holding a finger up (my index finger, that is!) "...isn't he in prison?"

"No," Beckett replied with a sigh, turning away and sauntering over to his desk. "He escaped last night. The door was found open..." he turned to me. "...at the hinges."

The prisoner's door open at the hinges? I was confused, and Beckett seemed surprised at my confused look.

"You are surprised," he stated. "I thought perhaps you had something to do with his escape."

"Oh really?" I laughed. "After he hijacked my car, and forced me to bring him here by gunpoint, and you thought I _helped_ him? Are you _whacked-up crazy_?"

"I beg your pardon?" Beckett replied with annoyance in his voice. "But it was _you_ who bought his key, and it was _you_ who caused all this to happen in the first place!"

"But I saved your life!" I cried angrily. "So you _owe __**me**_!"

Beckett pursed his lips in anger. Mercer glanced over to Groves, who bowed his head and departed from the office.

This was going to be another full-blown fight.

--

**Adrian's POV – **(Last Night)

A ship called the _Passion _was docked at the harbor ready to leave at dawn. It was heading South for Africa, and I decided to pay the Captain a decent fare to be his passenger.

"I suppose I shouldn't pass up a good price offered to me," he had said in his strange growly voice, and nearly toothless grin. "Just keep out of the way, lad."

I felt that I should use my gun on him, but I nipped my urge in the bud, and complied.

**(Next Morning)**

Seasickness is not fun. I had wasted two rather bland meals of little nutritional value into the ocean due to seasickness. The crew would laugh at me, and call me 'puke-stocking', and I felt too awful to be brawling with roughed-up seamen at the moment.

Welcome to the 18th century, where you have to scavenge your way to the top, since there are few rules to live by. Luckily for me, no technology could find me this time!

Later on, I spent the day in my quarters, which had been empty for some time. I shuffled through my sack of clothes to see what exactly I had. Three white plain shirts, three waistcoats and one was leather, three pairs of brown breeches, two pairs of shoes, and one pair of boots, which I am wearing.

Afterwards, I laid back and thought out the rest of my life. Would I remain stuck forever in this God-forsaken century at sea, or would I be able to return home? I would have to return to that Beckett's house in Port Royal in order to return to that damned girl's home, and God knows what will happen there.

No, I must start anew here. Since I had no family, this would be easy to do. My mother died when I was young, and my father was killed accidentally when I was sixteen. Nothing had ever been the same since.

Recently, I found out from an old uncle of mine that I should've been a wealthy Lord. After further pressing, he told me that back during this time, my ancestor of direct lineage was supposed to become a Lord after his father had died.

Unfortunately, his father favored his cousin over him, and passed his heritable posistion to Cutler Beckett, who was in charge of the East India Trading Company as well.

This sort of thing infuriated me, and I continued to do further research until I came across the legend of the mirror. I had a key that bore the Trading Company's insignia, and I was certain it had to match the same insignia somewhere on the mirror in order for me to go back to the time to reclaim my proper standing.

But the only way for me to find the mirror was to reveal the key. Whoever had the mirror, I figured, would definitely want to key to unlock it. Lo and behold, three whole months later, the key was bought for full price by Jade Donnelson.

She was quite an attractive girl when I first saw her and her colorful friends that night. In fact, she appealed to me quite a bit. I wished I carried our meeting into a different direction, but being me, I was fully interested in the mirror.

She lied to me! She lied to my face when I asked her!

Fury built up in me again, but it began to effect my stomach...here we go again!

--

**Jade's POV -**

"I _owe_ you?" Beckett fumed. "No, you have it backwards – if you hadn't barged into my life – NONE of this, and I repeat, NONE of this would have ever happened! My life would've been perfectly safe from that man if you hadn't put your nose into where it didn't belong!"

For once, I couldn't reply. He was right. But still, didn't he appreciate my loyalty just a little bit? He wouldn't know about the course of history if I hadn't told him!

"Now, since my trust has in you is gone," he turned to Mr. Mercer. "I must _not_ let you out of my sight!"

"No way!" I shook my head. "You are not going to let him follow me around in my world! Not happening!"

"You didn't let me finish!" Beckett snapped back at me. "You are to remain with me, or under guard, or under lock and key at _all times_."

"But _why_?" I pressed. "What did I _do_?"

"You are ruining my life, and I'm putting a stop to it while obtaining information from you at the same time," he answered strongly. "And your strange friends are to be kept away!"

Then he turned to Mr. Mercer. "Take her to the East Wing at once!"


	22. Being Beckett's Prisoner

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 22 – Being Beckett's Prisoner

I couldn't talk. I couldn't breathe. I was becoming very pissed. Beckett just turned around and ordered me to be locked up again just for bringing in Adrian! Hey, it was Adrian's own fault he was imprisoned in the first place – but this just takes the whole cake!

My anger got the best of me when I saw the little smirk crawling onto Beckett's cherubic face like a black, slimy cockroach. His blue-green eyes glimmered with malice, as if he was _proud_ making me so angry and keeping me under 'lock and key' like he just said.

Before I knew it – my mind flashed as I acted before I even bothered to think: I balled up my fist, hauled back, and punched him square on the cheek! I felt the sting of the blow against my knuckles as I watched him stagger back holding his cheek. Mr. Mercer jumped forward and gripped my arm in his large, strong hand.

Now _BECKETT_ was pissed!!

I'm in deep, deep, _deep_ shit now!!

"That does it," Beckett hissed furiously stepping up. "Thank goodness I've already initiated your punishment _before_ you struck me! _No one_ strikes me!" he looked at Mr. Mercer. "Take her and lock her in the East Wing at once!"

"Really?" I snapped back at his 'NO ONE strikes me!' comment while being pulled away by Mercer. "I just did!"

"And it will be the last time you do _anything_ to me, Miss Donnelson!" Beckett called after me as I was forced into the hallway.

Oh now I wished Adrian _had_ shot that jerk! He really _deserves_ to get his butt kicked!

I was hopping mad as Mr. Mercer led me down the endless hallway until I saw a pair of dark oak doors ahead. They already looked quite menacing from my point of view, being large and closed and all...

We halted before the gigantic doors as Mr. Mercer pulled out the key and unlocked the doors. They creaked open when he led me into a huge room that was darkened by the pulled dark green drapes. What a gloomy place I was supposed to be locked up in!

"Make yourself at home, lass," Mr. Mercer said as he withdrew to the door. "Your dinner will be brought shortly."

"But it's _morning_!" I protested. "Isn't that _breakfast_?"

Mr. Mercer smirked. "We'll see what His Lordship says about that." Then he shut the door. I heard the lock being locked a few seconds later.

Here I was. Locked up forever in this hole with a guy I now hate.

--

**Adrian's POV - **

_Kaboom! Boom! Boom!_

I shot up in my cot at the deafening explosions overhead.

Instantly, from my state of half-sleep, I knew we were under attack by pirates or some other fool and his crew.

Bother!

I scrambled out of my cot as another explosion shook the ship. I pulled on my shirt and breeches that were laying nearby. I heard men screaming and shouting all around me as I pulled on my boots, picked up my pistol from under my pillow and tucked them into the back of my breeches.

Just then, my door banged open causing my to whip out my pistol and aim it at him. It was a frightened sailor of this ship.

"It's the _Dutchman_! We're being attacked by the _Flying Dutchman_!" he screamed. "You need to go before they catch you!"

I couldn't believe his nonsense. "What?" I shouted back. "How could that be?"

But he didn't answer, because a cannon from the _Duchman_ behind me removed him and part of the doorway as I dove for cover. Without a second thought, I left all I had obtained and raced out of the cabin, over the dead and wounded, up the stairs, and onto the deck. Right there, through the mess of ropes and broken masts I saw the ship.

It was the strangest ship I had ever seen, and the crew was something quite frightful since they resembled sea creatures that resembled men. They were close enough where I could see them, and they were buidly shelling the ship with all they have got. I needed to escape quickly!

I ran to the opposite side of the ship, dodging fleeing sailors and pieces of wood flying through the air. I didn't stop running until I was flying through the air myself as I leaped overboard. The chill of the ocean water surrounded me as I scrambled back to the surface and gasped for air.

Floating a few feet away was a piece of wood from the ship the size of a small raft. I paddled over and climbed onto it. Grabbing up a floating oar, much to my luck, I managed to paddle away under the shower of water, pieces of broken wood, and the horrible noise of explosions.

Paddling furiously, I didn't look back until I was certain that I was far enough away. Slowly, I turned around in time to see what was left of the _Passion_ sink into the depths. The _Flying_ _Dutchman_ was turning away from me and...submerged _itself_ into the water!

I couldn't move, even to paddle. The only thought running through my mind was _would I be captured from beneath_?

--

**Jade's POV - **

I paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until I knew that there was no way I could ever get out of here. I was stuck here forever! I completely ruined my budding friendship with Beckett, and now I hit him! Will I ever stop screwing up? Will I ever do the right thing, and _keep_ doing the right thing?

Damn I'm in a mess!

I threw myself down onto the dark green bed and closed my eyes. My stomach was rumbling after spending at least an hour in here pacing around. I guess Beckett thinks I don't deserve breakfast because I walloped him in the face.

Just then, as if someone out there was reading my mind, a knock sounded on the door. Thank goodness, I guess I was not going to starve after all! But then I remembered...

"I can't answer the door if it's locked, you know!" I shouted back.

Within a few minutes the door was unlocked, and Mr. Mercer entered. I groaned as I flopped my head back down on the bed.

"Please go away," I whined.

"His Lordship requests your presence, Miss Donnelson," he simply replied, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I don't have any presents," was my sarcastic reply. "Tell him I'll get him some later."

Mr. Mercer just cleared his throat and stared at me. Okay, he knew I was being rude so I'd better go along with him before this gets any uglier that it already is (hint, hint).

So, I begrudgingly sat up and followed him out the door, down the hall, and into 'His Lordship's' office, where he waited with a wet cloth on his face. Now I feel guilty. Damn!

He quickly set aside his cloth and straightened up upon my entering. Mr. Mercer closed the office door behind me.

"You owe me a sincere apology," he curtly stated.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, but I knew it wasn't sincere enough. He just puffed a sigh and walked away to his desk.

"Not good enough, Miss Donnelson," he said, sitting down behind his desk.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh come on! What do you want me to do, get down on my knees and grovel at your feet?"

"Good idea, but no," Beckett replied dryly. "Just an apology."

I sighed, and began my stupid pacing again. "Okay, okay..." I stopped and turned around to him. "I'm sorry that I hit you, and I'm sorry that I ruined your life, and I'm sorry that I brought Adrian here to do whatever he was wanting to do...whatever it was..."

"Decent," Beckett nodded. "You may go."

"Go where?" I asked before I could stop myself. Beckett raised his eyes to me.

"To your room in the East Wing," he said. "I have not let up on you yet, but I also give you permission to gather your things under the guard of Mr. Mercer. You may bring what you want except clothes."

I was taken aback by the last few words of that sentence. "What?" I replied firmly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Beckett rolled his eyes. "What I precisely meant is that the clothes you wear are completely inappropriate. You are not to wear them as long as you are in my world, and under my roof."

"So I have to wear corsets, hoops, dresses..." I tried to finish, but I totally understood where he was getting at.

"You must be a lady," Beckett smirked. "At all times – even if you have to undergo training."

"Hey, don't worry," I held up my hands. "My mother did a good enough job on me already."

"Not to my satisfaction," he turned to Mr. Mercer. "Please return her to her room. A meal will be brought to her shortly. Then she must go gather her things for her stay here."

"Yes, milord," Mr. Mercer obediently complied. He took me by the arm, and led me all the way back to my room. Once the door was locked, I went and laid down on the bed again.

This was just getting better and better! Now I have to live in a locked room and wear 18th century dresses and God knows what else! What has my life come to?

The only relief was that no time passes in my world when I'm here in Beckett's world. At least I won't be late for work after a spend a few months here. At least I can go get my stuff and miss a day and explain everything to Linda. She will not be happy about this at all!

I sat up and crossed my legs on the bed, and I looked around my new room. The wallpaper was a light golden tan with little green leaves swirling about on vines. A deep mahogany vanity sat right across from me, next to a tall mahogany armoire. There was also a little round table draped with a lace tablecloth with a vase of flowers in the center.

A daybed sat on the other side of the room beside a set of small double doors, which were opened to another room. From what I could see, I saw a stuffed armchair, shelves of books, a desk with a wooden chair with an inkwell, quill pen, and a pile of blank paper to write on.

On the other side of me was a pair of glass double door opening out onto a balcony, not as large as Beckett's, but it was pretty awesome. The bed I sat on was a big four-poster bed with a dark green bedspread that matched the drapes. I think they were made of the same material, too.

Just then, I heard the door unlock, and a maid came in with a tray. She set it down on the lace-top table, curtsied, and left. Mr. Mercer then shut the door and locked it back up again.

As soon as I heard his shoes drift away, I quickly got off the bed to go see what I had to eat. Poached eggs, toast, and tea. How nice, and nice-smelling! I grabbed the tray, put it on the bed along with myself. I placed the white linen napkin on my lap, picked up my fork and knife and dug in.

**Not much to hang on right now, but there's more in the next chapter! Thank you for reading!**


	23. Scent of Adventure

_**The Magic Porthole.**_

CHAPTER 23 – The Adventures Begin

**Adrian's POV - **

Night has fallen. I'm in the middle of the ocean on a broken piece of a ship with an oar. And I'm so terribly thirsty. Seawater did not suit me at all, so I decided to just sit and wait to die.

I didn't realize how long I had been asleep, for the strong Caribbean sun was shining like burning hell into my eyes and face. I shielded my eyes with my arm as I sat up and looked around. A good distance away was a small island, and a black ship with black sails docked right by it. The strong waves were taking me straight towards the island and ship... I squinted at the ship to see if it was flying any flags for identification.

My heart skipped a beat. Dread surrounded me, causing a feeling of sickness to churn up my stomach. Or was it the strong waves moving me about?

It is a pirate ship!

I held tightly onto my makeshift raft, prepared to meet my end.

**Jade's POV:**

The conversation I had with Linda repeated over and over in my head as I brought my stuff back to the East Wing room. She wasn't mad at all! In fact, she was elated! She went on to explain to me about things about Beckett, but I stopped her. Other than that, I began to feel a bit adventurous. I also had a feeling that Beckett was up to something, and it was something big.

I laid out the things I brought on my new bed as Mr. Mercer stood right next to me to approve of the things I had.

My laptop. My Ipod. My Twilight series. My 'personal belongings' both hygienic and...personal. The things he questioned my the post about was my nightclothes and my underwear. He kept saying that 'His lordship would not approve' of this or that.

"He said 'clothes'!" I had protested. "He didn't specify pajamas or underwear!"

"But they're _clothes_!" he had insisted.

I just groaned and shook my head. I really don't _want_ to show Lord Cutler Beckett my _underwear_ for Pete's sake! But...oh well.

**Adrian's POV:**

I was very close to the sand bar section of the island, when I noticed a man swimming towards it about twenty feet away from me. I paddled towards him my hands until I was close enough for him to notice me and stop swimming.

"Need a lift, mate?" I shouted at him.

"We're only twenty feet away!" he replied. "But I suppose it will be twenty feet less for me to swim!"

We paddled (he swam) towards each other until he pulled himself aboard with my help. The raft tipped to and fro, but settled down as soon as we did.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "My name's Will Turner."

"Adrian Fraser," said I as we shook hands. "Do you know who that pirate ship belongs to?"

He looked over at it. "Of course I do! It belongs to Captain Jack Sparrow! Do you know him?"

"No, but I'm distantly related to a sworn enemy of his," I replied without thinking. Oh well, this could be of some use to me telling someone I don't know that I'm related to Beckett.

He looked right at me for a moment, as if he could identify my distant relation. "I look nothing like him, thank goodness!" I added with a laugh.

"Why, who is he?" he asked.

"Lord Cutler Beckett," I answered. He looked quite surprised and rather puzzled as well.

"But...what are you doing here?" he finally spoke again after a long pause to get over his temporary shock.

"I tried to kill him, and his little trollop saved his life, and I was thrown in prison," I explained. "There I managed to escape."

"Trollop?" he exclaimed. "But Lord Beckett has no women in his life!"

"He does, now," I said. "And a young and pretty thing she is, too!"

Will shook his head. "So much has changed since I left, am I not correct?"

"You are," I answered, knowing full well how shocked he would be if he ever found about the mirror. "Even the very fabric of time has interfered, and that is where Beckett's new toy and myself come in."

Will's eyes grew wide. "How?"

I smirked at him. "You will never believe me, Mr. Turner."

**Jade's POV:**

It had been a few days before Beckett allowed me outside my room. Maids have been coming in and measuring me for my new dresses and such. Day after day, they would come in with bolts and bolts of fabric, and yards and yards of trims and lace. Seamstresses would come and measure me some more, and would match fabric colors to my face and shape, and would show me the fashions that suited my face and frame.

I was impressed how lovely the dresses were, and was excited to be wearing the real thing instead of a simplified costume. How incredible!

The cobbler came in this afternoon to measure my feet, and I explained in great detail about arch support and how they keep feet from hurting. He took my advice into consideration, and headed out to make me three pairs of shoes with those arch supports that I can't live without.

Beckett told me that after my clothes were all done, then he was going to bring in teachers to teach me etiquette, dancing, and the harpsichord. How shocked my mom would be when she finds me acting like a lady, dancing and playing music after a day (or so the thinks, heheheheh.)

Anyways, I think I'm ready for an adventure. That is, if there is going to be one; it's up to Beckett to decide about that.

Oh, by the way, I don't hate him anymore.

**Short. I need to watch DMC and AWE again to sharpen my fuzzy memory of these movies!**


End file.
